


The Moment of Gallifrey

by AHopefulVoice



Series: Lady Arkytior [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: 50th anniversary fix it, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-11 02:28:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AHopefulVoice/pseuds/AHopefulVoice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She became a recluse, lost in the recesses of her own mind, until one man picked her up and carried her off. [DoctorRose, AU S4, 50th Fix-It]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the combination of several different things, but began from a question I asked when recently rewatching "Turn Left"-how did Rose know what the Doctor thought about Donna? And so, paired with a few other ideas and headcanons I had been throwing around, this was created.
> 
> It is obviously AU, set during the very end of S4 (the prologue and first chapter are very script-based because of the nature of the setup), and will fix some of the loopholes within the Day of the Doctor. The rating starts at T but will probably go up to M (although already noted as such) in a few chapters because of an increase in intensity. However, this prologue does have language and mentions of suicide, as well as character death.

  **The Moment of Gallifrey**

****

_Prologue_

The first time she jumped, it seemed to be a mistake. It wasn't until later that she realized she had found the right place but didn't have the supplies or time to make an impact. "Listen, there is this woman that's going to come along. A tall blonde woman called Sylvia. Tell her that bin there, alright? It'll all make sense. That bin there."

But before she could ask to what the red-haired woman was referring, the woman had turned away, and the scene before her was fading. That awful white wall was in front of her once more, and she immediately spun around to glare at the team behind the computer stations.

She didn't know what the hell just happened, but she needed to find him. It was important.

Occasionally, she felt trapped in the dark but could sense him nearby. She would call out for him, screaming his name, but he never heard her. Whenever she landed in the wrong universe, she tried to keep herself alive. It wasn't as simple as it seemed.

On one landing, there was a great white star in the night sky, shooting beams of electric light out over London. She didn't know where she was running, but she ran and ran and ran until she reached a police barricade and a crowd of people along the Thames. Turning to the first person she can find, a woman with red hair, she quickly asked, "What happened? What did they find? I'm sorry, did they find someone?"

If only  _someone_  would answer her. And then the woman beside her did. "I don't know. A bloke called the Doctor, or something."

"Well, where is he?" she as quick to ask, nearly jumping on top of the woman in anticipation.

The woman looked genuinely sympathetic as she said, "They took him away. He's dead. I'm sorry, did you know him? I mean, they didn't say his name. Could be any doctor."

Her heart sunk and she thought she as actually going to be sick. "I came so far," she murmured, not wanting that to be true. How could the Doctor be dead? Why wouldn't he just regenerate?

"It-it could be anyone."

She returned her focus to the woman. Something was off about her, like she had the opposite of a perception filter on her. "What's your name?"

"Donna," the woman replied. "And you?"

She didn't want to say, knew she couldn't. She could ruin so many timelines. Of course, now that the Doctor was dead, did it really matter? It was only a matter of time before the universe went to hell anyway. "Oh, I was just passing by," she said, trying to determine what exactly was wrong with the woman. "I shouldn't even be here. This is wrong. It's wrong. This is so wrong. Sorry, what was it? Donna what?"

Donna seemed alarmed and frustrated when she asked, "Why do you keep looking at my back?"

Her eyes flicked to Donna's as she defended herself, "I'm not." Well, at least she knew where the anomaly was now. How some sort of alien attention whore managed to manifest itself on Donna's back was beyond her. And why did a redhead named Donna seem to have ingrained herself in her memory when she only just met the woman?

"Yes, you are," Donna said, but she wasn't paying attention, focusing solely on the monster on Donna's back. "You keep looking behind me. You're doing it now. What is it? What's there? Did someone put something on my back?" She started to bend around like a dog chasing its tail to see what was wrong.

Before she could meet Donna's eyes again, she was fading out of London and back into her personal white hell.

And then came the real mission: the stars were going out and she  _seriously_ had to find the Doctor. She stumbled into the right universe, watched the proverbial shit hit the fan, and faced the Daleks once again with the man she loved by her side. But then she was standing on an all too familiar beach with two version of the men she loved and her mother and new friend, a certain Donna Noble.

With her back to the water and two versions of the Doctor, one fully Time Lord and the other half-human, on each side of her, she asked the question she had been begging to be answered for two years. "Alright, both of you answer me this. When I last stood on this beach on the worst day of my life, what was the last thing you said to me? Go on. Say it."

The proper Doctor, the man in a brown pinstriped suit, looked at her sadly and stated, "I said, 'Rose Tyler.'" His voice was detached, his eyes obviously fighting a losing battle to be the same way.

"Yeah?" she prompted, needing to hear the words she'd dreamt about. "And how was that sentence going to end?"

Her heart broke when he just said, "Does it need saying?"

But there was one last chance, one more man who could say it, one more man who offered her his forever. "And you, Doctor?" she asked, though she was uncertain if she could really call him that. "What was the end of that sentence?"

He took a small step towards her, leaned in and whispered that which she had longed to hear. Only a second passed before she grabbed his lapels and pulled his lips to hers. He was stiff for a moment before bringing his arms around her to pull her close. The kiss was firm and almost bruising in chaste intensity, but they were holding each other close enough that every cell felt connected. It was only until the sounds of the TARDIS dematerializing could be heard that they knew anything was wrong.

She pulled away and looked to the disappearing blue box, feeling betrayed even though she had the perfect man standing right next to her. He gently took her hand, still a perfect fit, and laced his fingers through hers, thumb stroking her hand just like always. But somehow, this time, it meant so much more.

Their so called honeymoon period (sans the actual wedding, of course) lasted only two and a half months. He started getting headaches, his gob running rampant until he was completely out of breath, wheezing and gasping for air. He was burning from the inside out until the only thing he could feel was agony.

His funeral was on a Tuesday in September. She cried and cried, because this was worse than being left behind the first and second times combined. He had promised her everything, and she was never going to get any of it.

Again an old maid at twenty-three, she threw herself into her work. Not to find a way back to the prime universe again, but as a distraction from the anguish she felt. She was miserable, had moved back in with her family and needed reminders to eat and sleep and bathe. Jackie's untimely death in a hostage situation gone wrong was the straw that broke the camel's back.

She was sitting in her car, waiting to pull out of the Torchwood car park, when Pete jumped into the car. At first, she was angry that he was going to try and stop her, but then he explained what he had been working on for the last month. Pete fastened the leather strap around her wrist and explained that everything had been programmed by the Doctor as a precaution in case something were to happen to him prematurely; all she would need to do was push the button.

"Thank you," she said, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. There were tears in her eyes because regardless, this would be the last time she would see him. He climbed out of the car and nodded.

She pulled out onto the road and drove aimlessly, eventually getting on the motorway due north. After driving for an hour or so, she felt she finally had the strength to jerk the wheel and overturn the car's center of gravity, just like she'd planned. But at the last second, she chickened out. Tears filling her eyes, she pulled off the side of the road and broke down.

"Why?" she whispered to no one in particular, but clearly directing the question to the man she loved. "Why did you have to leave me?"

The leather on her wrist was tight and chafing. She looked at the vortex manipulator, wiped the tears from her swollen eyes, and pressed the 'enter' button. Rose Tyler disappeared in a flash.

 


	2. Two Words

_Chapter I - Two Words_

Rose landed in London on the thirty-first of March, 2007. But it was wrong. She could feel it in the air. Something was different in the universe. There had been a shock and a flash, and she was sprinting across the street to let out the energy of being thrust across the Void.

Behind her, a voice called, "Blimey! Are you alright? What was that, fireworks or...?"

She did the best she could under the circumstances: she lied. "I don't know. I was just walking along. That's weird."

"You're the one!" the ginger woman exclaimed, pointing a finger at Rose. "Christmas Eve. I met you in town."

"Donna, isn't it?" Well, of course. The Doctor had told her all about Martha Jones and Donna Noble, and how the Human-Time Lord Metacrisis was never supposed to happen, so the original him would have to wipe her brain of all memories of him. In retrospect, she should have seem his death coming. But in the way this world was working, she must have arrived  _before_  the twenty-seven planets were stolen by the Daleks.

"What was your name?" asked Donna.

Rose was quick to deflect the question back on the other woman. "How're you doing? You're looking good. How's things? What have you been up to?" She pasted on a smile, trying not to seem too disturbed by the thing on Donna's back.

Donna was not amused or distracted by Rose's efforts. "You're doing it again?"

"What?" Rose asked, crossing her arms and willing herself to relax. She played dumb; it was the only sensible thing to do.

"Looking behind me," Donna said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Honestly, Rose felt bad for the woman; it couldn't be easy having everyone looking behind her all the time like there was some sort of monster behind her. "People keep on doing that, looking at my back."

"What sort of people?" She needed to stall for time, needed to think of what the Doctor would do if he were here. Of course, he wasn't here because in this universe he was dead! So why would the half-human Doctor send her here?

Donna seemed nervous when she answered, "People in the street. Strangers. I catch them sometimes, staring at me. Like they're looking at something. And then I get home, and I look, and there's nothing there. See? Look, now I'm doing it!"

Change course, Rose. "What are you doing for Christmas?" Another fake smile plastered across her face. Save her life, Rose, she reprimanded herself. Next Christmas would be the  _Titanic_ , she could save Donna and her wonderful family.

"What am I what?"

"Next Christmas," Rose repeated. "Any plans?"

Donna shrugged and rolled her eyes. "I don't know. That's ages away. Nothing much, I suppose. Why?"

"Just, I think you should get out, you and your family. Don't stay in London. Just leave the city."

"What for?"

"Nice hotel Christmas break?"

"Can't afford it."

"Well, no, you got that raffle ticket," she reminded Donna. Is this what the Doctor always felt like? Having so much prior knowledge of how the future was going to go and hinting that people should do something to keep themselves safe, but unable to elaborate because that could change everything? No wonder he was mad.

"How do you know about that?"

The best thing she could would be to disregard the question, move straight towards the benefits. "First prize, luxury weekend break. Use it, Donna Noble."

She seemed more angry and frustrated than ever. "Why won't you tell me your name? I think you should leave me alone." With that, Donna turned around and walked away. Shaking her head, Rose pressed the button again in an attempt to return to her home universe, disappearing in a flash of light.

Rose wandered around the Earth for a few days, hoping she would run into the Doctor. It seemed that, for the time being, she was stuck in this particular universe. Hopefully not forever, but there was definitely something keeping her here. One more jump left her on a dirty street corner with military men standing around in every direction. The dark seemed to comfort her more now than ever before; in darkness, there was anonymity. But not from everyone.

"Hello," said Donna Noble.

"Hi," Rose replied. They made small talk for a bit, but mostly walked in silence until they reached a park and could sit on an empty bench with no one in sight. "It's the ATMOS devices," she explained. "We're lucky, it's not so bad here. Britain hasn't got that much petrol. But all over Europe, China, South Africa, they're getting choked by gas."

"Can't anyone stop it?"

Rose nodded. "Yeah, they're trying right now, this little band of fighters on board the Sontaran ship. Any second now." Right on cue, the sky lit up in a flash of fire and burning gas. It only lasted a second before burning itself out and dissipating, leaving the stars as clear as ever.

"And that was?" Donna trailed off, begging for an answer.

"That was the Torchwood team. Gwen Cooper, Ianto Jones, they gave their lives. And Captain Jack Harkness has transported to the Sontaran home world. There's no one left."

Donna finally addressed something that had been on her mind. "You're always wearing the same clothes. Why won't you tell me your name?"

"None of this was meant to happen," Rose said, just as much to Donna as to herself, realizing the truth as she spoke with authority. "There was a man. This wonderful man, and he stopped it. The  _Titanic_ , the Adipose, the ATMOS, he stopped them all from happening."

"That Doctor?"

She nodded. "You knew him."

"Did I?" asked Donna. "When?"

"I think you dream about him sometimes. It's a man in a suit. Tall, thin man. Great hair. Some  _really_  great hair," she blushed, thinking about how many years she had dreamed about running her hands through his hair, and finally being allowed to as much as she wanted. And now all of that was over.

"Who are you?"

"I was like you," she said. "I used to be you. You've travelled with him, Donna. You've travelled with the Doctor in a different world."

"I never met him, and he's dead," Donna said sadly, but with just a hint of thinking that Rose might be the crazy one.

Rose continued on, "He died underneath the Thames on Christmas Eve, but you were meant to be there. He needed someone to stop him, and that was you. You made him leave. You saved his life."

She watched as Donna's eyes slammed shut and she started shaking her head, plagued with a flashback of a path she had never taken, not in this world. "Stop it," she told Rose. "I don't know what you're talking about. Leave me alone."

"Something's coming, Donna," Rose warned. "Something worse."

"The whole world is  _stinking_. How can anything be worse than this?"

Rose set her jaw. "Trust me, we need the Doctor now more than ever. I've been pulled across from a different universe because every single universe is in danger. It's coming, Donna. It's coming from across the stars and nothing can stop it." As she spoke, Rose began to wonder if it wasn't just the Daleks she was talking about. She knew that it couldn't be anything else because she didn't  _know_  of anything else, but she felt the faint tingling of something she could only describe as a premonition. It wasn't a comfortable feeling to have.

"What is?"

"The darkness." Well, that was a bit more dramatic than was probably needed.

Donna easily grew angry again; that seemed to be quite a character trait of hers. "Well, what do you keep telling me for? What am I supposed to do? I'm nothing special. I mean, I'm-I'm not. I'm nothing special. I'm a temp. I'm not even that. I'm nothing!"

Hearing Donna say those awful things about herself broke Rose's heart. Donna Noble was so much  _more_ than that, and listening to her degrade herself was more than Rose could bear. It was sad, but she used to be the same way until she met the Doctor and learned that she could be so much more than just a shop girl. "Donna Noble," she said with a smile smile, "you're the most important woman in the whole of creation."

"Oh, don't," Donna pleaded, shaking her head. "Just don't. I'm tired. I'm so tired."

Time to get to business. Rose had spent a few days at UNIT, preparing them for the impending apocalypse, readying everything she might need to get home. "I need you to come with me.

"Yeah. Well, blonde hair might work on the men, but you ain't shifting me, lady," Donna said, voice full of snark and sass that couldn't help but make Rose smile.

"That's more like it!" She remembered the stories the Doctor would tell her about the wonderful things Donna would say, about the hilarious things she would do, about the truths she couldn't help but make amusing.

"I've got plenty more."

"Then you'll come with me, only when you want to."

"You'll have a long wait, then."

"Not really," Rose said, remembering two days previously when Donna had come to her to finally do what was needed. Rose's own explanation of the plan and use of the Doctor's technobabble that she presumed the TARDIS had secured in her head impressed even Rose. It was like that time when she ate the super smarts chips and could do maths in her head. "Just three weeks. Tell me, does your grandfather still own that telescope?"

"He never lets go of it."

Rose nodded once. "Three weeks' time. But you've got to be certain. Because when you come with me, Donna...sorry. I'm so sorry, but you're going to die."

Before Donna could become upset or ask questions, Rose faded away and found herself on the street in broad daylight. If anyone noticed her appearing out of nowhere, they didn't act on it. She looked down at her vortex manipulator to check the date and time. Yes, she had arrived on Monday the twenty-fifth at precisely ten in the morning. She had one minute to find Donna and give her the final message.

There was a scream, and Rose took off running. She sprinted down the street, pushing past people and darting between the cars at a standstill until she found the large truck that Donna had run out in front of. Rose rushed to the ginger in the road. It was painfully obvious that she was dying; Rose hoped it would be quick and easy. "Tell him this. Two words," she said, and leaned in close to Donna's ear. God, she hoped that Donna wouldn't remember any of this pain when she found the Doctor again. "Bad Wolf."

Donna's eyes fluttered shut. Rose looked up at the truck before her, specifically at the license tag. She could only assume that the universe was on her side this time. The letters on the tag said B4D W0LF.

Rose wasn't sure what was going to happen next, but before she even properly think about what to program into her vortex manipulator, she felt very warm and tingly. Looking around, she saw that nobody was even looking at her. Just as she sensed a presence behind her, there were chilled hands at her temples, something entering her mind, and then nothing.

 


	3. Gallifrey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last update for today, and just where the going gets good.

 

_Chapter II - Gallifrey_

The first thing Rose saw when she awoke was the darkness of solitude.  There was a ceiling and walls, and something beneath her.  Her fingers slid off her stomach and onto the surface she was laying on--a blanketed surface of some sort, soft beneath her back, cushioned under her head.  A bed, then.  Slivers of orange light came through rectangular slats a few inches below the ceiling.  If she stood on the bed, maybe she could see out.

Rose tried to lift herself up, but her arms were too weak, her body too heavy.  Come to think of it, there was the beginnings of a headache in the front of her head.  How did she get here again?  Concentrating very hard proved difficult, but as she retraced her steps, she remembered Donna Noble and her whispered message.  She hoped Donna had passed on those two words.

Trailing one hand up to scratch her head, Rose was a little surprised when she felt her hair.  She ran her fingers down a strand near the front until she reached the end, down past her breasts.  That was impossible.  She had cut it to just past her chin before Pete gave her the vortex manipulator.  Speaking of which, her wrist was bare.  And now that she was thinking about it, she wasn’t wearing her favorite blue jacket, her armor.  Dressed in a simple white shift, Rose chewed her lip and wondered how long she had been unconscious.

“Six months,” a deep voice said out of nowhere.  The shock caused Rose to sit up quickly, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed to the cold floor.  Blood rushed to her head, blocking her vision with an inky black darkness.

Throwing her arms out to steady herself, Rose felt incredibly lightheaded, but managed to ask, “Who’s there?  Where are you?”  Her voice was thick and scratchy, evidence that she hadn’t spoken in a very long time.

A door that Rose hadn’t noticed before opened, and a tall man walked in.  He wore a long red robe and had an ornate headpiece resting over his shoulders to tower over his head.  Something about him seemed off, Rose thought, but not in a good way.  Like he could read her mind (which wouldn’t really surprise her at this point, as she remembered someone entering her mind to put her in this coma), the man said, “You are currently being held in the Citadel of the Time Lords, awaiting study by the High Council.”

“What d’you mean study?” asked Rose, a sick feeling growing in her stomach.

“You are an anomaly,” the Time Lord said blandly.  “Time does not affect you, simply passes through you like a sieve.  It is the duty of the Time Lords to determine the threat and neutralize it.”

Rose gave a bitter sort of laugh.  This was ridiculous.  “If you wanted to kill me, you should’ve done it when I was out, since apparently I was asleep for six months.”  Then a thought crossed her mind.  “Hang on, you said the Citadel of the Time Lords, yeah?  How can I be here if--”  Before she could ruin the timelines, she stopped herself.  The Doctor was the last of the Time Lords, his planet had been destroyed.  “Where am I?”

The man looked at her like she had dribbled on her shirt.  “You are in the Citadel of the Time Lords, in the Capitol of the planet Gallifrey, home world of the Time Lords, a race so ancient that primitive humans like yourself--”

Rose put up a hand to cut him off. “I know what Time Lords are, thanks.”  But if Gallifrey had been destroyed, how could she be here?  Unless this was before all of the Time Lords had been killed.  “Where’s the Doctor?” she asked, her heart soaring at the thought of seeing him again.  Even after having a human version of him to hold, she still missed him so much.

Of course, her question threw the Time Lord.  “Who?”

“The Doctor,” Rose repeated.  “‘e’s a Time Lord, too.”

“There is no such Time Lord,” he said.  “And even if there were a Time Lord such as the Doctor, it is impossible to determine how such a lowly human such as yourself would know him.”

“Right,” Rose huffed, leaning back against the rough wall.  Well, the Doctor certainly was real, unless this was some parallel universe where the Time Lords still existed, but the Doctor never had.  Wasn’t that a thought.  Rose cringed at the thought of a universe without the Doctor.  Squeezing her eyes shut, she asked, “So what are you supposed to do with me?”

“I am meant to deliver you to the Inner Council’s chamber, where you will explain yourself and the study will begin.”

“And if I refuse?”  He said nothing, but Rose’s mind was filled with images of fire.  Raising an eyebrow, she said, “I thought entering someone’s mind without permission was the worst crime possible.”

Shock that she knew even a little about the laws of the Time Lords flashed in the man’s eyes, but he said nothing about it.  Rather, he just said, “The Lord President awaits.”

Her legs wobbled a bit as she rose to her bare feet, but the Time Lord didn’t even offer to help her, so Rose was forced to steady herself.  After a few seconds of fearing she might collapse from muscular disuse, she centered herself and took a hesitant step forward.  When she didn’t fall, she tried again and was soon able to follow the Time Lord through the dark corridors.

Rose tried to keep track of the turns and staircases they took in case she needed to make a run for it, but it was impossible after four lefts and two flights of stairs.  Not to mention that it would probably be impossible for her to escape from a planet of telepaths.  She wasn’t even able to properly come up with an escape plan before she was ushered into a circular room full of similarly dressed people.

They all stared at her, but only a handful managed to look fearful. Rose hoped she would seem intimidating, but it appeared impossible. How could she even think of the possibility of frightening the most frightening people in the universe, except maybe the Daleks?

A man at the head of the table with the most elaborate of all stiff collars stood and asked, “What is your name?”

For a few seconds, Rose couldn’t get the words out of her throat.  “Rose Tyler.  Sir,” she added as an afterthought.  The first Time Lord mentioned something about a Lord President, and since this man seemed to be the one in charge, it seemed best to be polite if she wanted to stay alive.

“Where are you from?” asked the woman sitting next to the Lord President.  Her robes were deep blue, her expression stern.  Rose’s stomach swooped, and she felt more insecure than ever in her plain shift.

“Um, London.  It’s on Earth,” she said, biting down on her lip.

The Lord President spoke again.  “And how, pray, did you come to enter our dominion?”

Rose chewed on the inside of her mouth for a second before answering, “Uh, a Time Lord brought me here I think.  The last thing I remember is kneeling by a friend, and then felt hands on my head, and then I woke up here.”  She swallowed thickly, blinking several times.  This was just surreal.  She was on the Doctor’s home planet in a universe that he didn’t exist in.  It was almost overwhelming.  After seeing him so sad for so long, comforting him because he was the one who killed his own people, she was standing in front of them.

The Time Lords broke out into an argument, but Rose couldn’t understand it.  Surely they hadn’t all been speaking English before.  Maybe this was a different form of Gallifreyan, or maybe a nearby TARDIS translation circuit had stopped working.  The Time Lord who had brought Rose to this chamber stepped close to her and whispered, “They are deciding what to do with you.”

Before she could stop herself, Rose blurted out, “I’m afraid.”

There was a glimmer in the man’s eyes as he said, “You should be.”

Rose’s attention was caught when the Lord President began clapping his hands to seek order and silence.  The rest of the council became quiet.  After a few seconds of staring around the table, presumably having a mental conversation with the others, the Lord President said, “Human, you will be taken back to your chamber and your mind will be thoroughly searched.  If you prove harmless and useless, your memories will be wiped and you will be returned to Earth in the universe we found you in.”

Just then, Rose interrupted, “Wait, you brought me to a different universe?  I thought that was impossible!”

One of the guards behind her stepped forward to strike her across the face.  Rose cried out and clutched her cheek, eyes watering as she looked up.  “Do not interrupt the Lord President,” the guard said.

Defiantly, Rose set her jaw and straightened up to look straight into the Lord President’s eyes.  He seemed irritated, but didn’t acknowledge her transgression as he continued speaking.  Answering her question, though, was a different matter altogether.  “Time Lords are the most superior race in the multiverse.  We are only found in this one universe, and travel between universes is simple for us.  As I was saying, if you are of no use to us, we will erase your memories of us and drop you back where we found you.  If you prove beneficial to our causes, we will study you further and determine the best course of action.  Council dismissed.”

The guards immediately surrounded Rose and began directing her out of the room and down the halls once more.  She mulled over what had been said, thinking over everything she learned.  So if the Time Lords _only_ existed in one universe, the Doctor did exist and he had lied about not being able to get to her.  Somehow, that seemed worse than this entire ordeal.  The fact that he didn’t want her made her feel woozy.

Rose was finally ushered into her ‘chamber’ which she really thought of as a sort of ‘cell’, considering she was more or less a prisoner here.  Exhausted from everything she’d been through in the last half hour after six months of nothingness, Rose collapsed on her bed.  She closed her eyes, but was vaguely aware of others in the room.  When she opened her eyes, she could see the first Time Lord she’d met on Gallifrey as well as a few others.

They made steps to move towards her, and before she could protest, there were hands on her temples and she slipped into oblivion.

 ***

When Rose came to, she was alone.  She struggled to remember what happened, but all she could remember was warmth and darkness and the howling of a wolf.  She shivered; despite everything she had been through, wolves still made her nervous.  Maybe it was a sign that everything would be alright, some way that her mind was passing on that eternal message: _bad wolf_.

Staring up at the ceiling, Rose realized that she was still on Gallifrey.  If the Time Lords had already searched her mind, then she had been viewed as useful for them.  She was still here, still a prisoner of the Time Lords.  Biting down on her lip, Rose thought that maybe that was worse than having her memories erased.

The Time Lords were the most powerful beings in the universe.  What could they possibly want with a human like her?  The only interesting thing about her was that she had traveled with the Doctor.  And if the Doctor didn’t exist (which still didn’t make sense), then how could she be of use to them?

Rose thought she had only been awake for a few minutes before the door opened once more and three Time Lords walked in.  She sat up quickly, waiting for them to say something.  When it appeared that they would say nothing, she loudly asked, “So did you find me useful?”

The one nearest her, the first Time Lord she had met here, said, “We have been instructed to take you to the Untempered Schism.  If you refuse, you will be killed.”

Laughing, Rose said, “So obviously you’ve decided against just leaving me behind, then.”

One of the men gruffly stated, “You are too dangerous to be left for the universe to grasp.  You will either be property of the Time Lords, or no one’s.”

Anger flared in Rose’s chest.  “Oi!  I’m not property, mate!”

“Silence!” the final Time Lord of the trio commanded.  Rose was shocked into submission, fear flashing in her eyes.  After a long moment, the Time Lord said, “You will come with us and see the whole of Time.  Either you will burn, or you will become our salvation.”

Just the thought of burning set Rose on edge.  She couldn’t remember how, but she had vague memories of burning before.  Trying too hard to think about made her headache flare up once more.  Instead of thinking about burning, Rose tried to think about what else he said.  If she was to be the Time Lord’s salvation, how could she possibly just be human?

She continued to think about these things as she was asked to leave her cell and marched through the dark halls.  All of the windows she hadn’t really noticed before were dark.  Instead of going up the stairs, they went down and through various corridors until they were passing through an arched doorway and outside.

The air was cold; Rose shivered.  Walking outside of the Citadel’s walls was almost ethereal.  The sky was the blackest Rose had ever seen, with two moons above and more stars than she had ever viewed in her life combined.  A musical wind blew by, ruffling her hair into knots, catching in her mouth.

As they walked, more and more Time Lords joined the ranks, walking until they had reached a place where the grass began to grow higher and higher until it brushed their hips.  Rose tripped over her own feet a few times, her bare feet growing numb in the cool air.  She tried not to think of how she was breathing, because surely Earth’s atmosphere wasn’t the same as Gallifrey’s.

The ground began to slant upwards, becoming steeper as they walked uphill.  Once at the top of the slope, Rose was made to stop in a ring outlined by fire pits.  She turned around to look at the crowd, watching them as they fanned out around her, outside the circle.  In the distance was the Citadel of the Time Lords, looking majestic in the dark.  There was an enormous bubble around the entire thing, reflecting the lights of the sky and of the city inside.  If she ever saw the Doctor again, Rose would ask what all of this meant.

A few of the Time Lords that Rose recognized as being from the High Council stepped into the circle, speaking in that lyrical language she heard the Doctor use occasionally and that they had been arguing in earlier.  The words made no sense to her, but they seemed to be circular, rotating around in the air as they spoke, chanted words that she couldn’t decipher.

When Rose turned around again, she gasped in surprise.  Before her was an enormous thing that her mind instantly categorized as a window, but that wasn’t right.  Something in her mind told her that this was the Untempered Schism, a gap in the fabric of reality, the entirety of the Vortex.  And this wasn’t the first time Rose had seen it.

A familiar song echoed through Rose’s mind, bringing back memories of life and death, everything that was and ever could be, and of a kiss she hadn’t remembered.  Everything seemed golden as she stared into the swirling colors of Time.  At first, her mind began to ache, but then the pain grew duller until it disappeared completely.  The music crescendoed in her head until it was deafening.

Rose cocked her head and listened to the sound of the Wolf in her mind.

To the Time Lords surrounding her, the music she alone could hear began projecting in a plea for a man they did not know, yet feared from her passion.  They cowered in silence, frozen in place, as they watched her, their ears ringing from the howling of the Bad Wolf.


	4. House of Lungbarrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose makes some friends.

_Chapter III - House of Lungbarrow_

The twin suns burnt down on Rose’s back as she walked through the grasses that reached the middle of her thighs.  She smiled at the warmth on her face, closing her eyes to listen to the wind.  The ground was soft beneath her boots, her cream colored dress flowing in the breeze.  Her hair whipped around her head as she chose a spot to sit down, lying down in the tall grass to look up at the sky.

She had been on Gallifrey for a little over three months now.  The Time Lords refused to let her use her name, refused to let her leave the planet, refused to let her really make friends.  Well, that wasn’t necessarily true.  She had free reign of the planet, but stayed within the Citadel in the hopes that the Doctor would come and find her, even if she had to introduce herself to him all over again.

Rose had been given her own apartment in the middle of the city, with everything provided for her by the Time Lords.  She longed for nothing, except maybe companionship.  She led a lonely life now, as the only single-hearted person on the planet, possibly in the entire system.  If the Doctor was this lonely, it was really no wonder that he sought human companionship.  What she wouldn’t give for a cup of tea made by her mother right now.

But Rose cut herself off at that very thought.  There was no way in hell she would let herself fall back into that grief on such a beautiful day.  Folding her arms behind her head, Rose watched the clouds cross the orange sky.  She didn’t know what the Time Lords wanted her for, but they all seemed to be afraid of her, or of the Bad Wolf, rather.

She learned all she could about Gallifrey during her time here.  She was granted access to any library she wanted, except everything seemed to be written in Circular Gallifreyan or Old High Gallifreyan, as she had learned.  Occasionally, she would come across a student of the Time Lord Academy who would translate for her, but that had only happened a handful of times.

Everything she learned had come from asking questions.  She knew the lay of the land from walking around, had heard the names of every landform in sight by asking questions.  Since her first day here, she had not seen any members of the High Council, though she was sure they were keeping their eyes on her.

More than anything, Rose longed for the Doctor.  Any friend would suffice, but her heart still ached for the man she loved.  Sometimes she could pretend she saw him walking through the marketplace, sometimes she thought she did.  It was strange, living here.  People always seemed to assume she was a lowborn Gallifreyan, as it was painfully obvious she was not a Time Lady.  She could not communicate telepathically, nor could she translate what others were saying, if not speaking the common tongue, which was thankfully still TARDIS-translated.

A rabbit passed by her head, and Rose turned on her side to reach an arm out.  It hopped out of reach, and Rose sighed.  Not even the animals wanted anything to do with her.  Learning the names of the animals and plants she didn’t recognize (which were the majority) was hard.  There were some things she couldn’t even pronounce.  Not that she had any friends who would help her.

What did the Time Lords want from her anyway?

Before she could continue her mental discussion, Rose was instantly alerted to the fast approaching footsteps, giving her just enough time to sit up and roll out of the way.  Two people dashed past, shouting at each other before realizing they almost ran someone over.  As soon as she cried out in surprise, the boys--well, young men, rather--turned around and sprinted back, grins wide across their faces.

“So sorry,” one said, his voice deep.  His hair was short and curly and a very dark brown.  When Rose looked into his eyes after he helped her rise to her feet, she saw a darkness that struck her to her core.  She repressed a shudder, feeling a twist of fear in her.  Her hand still in his, the man raised her hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

The other man rolled his eyes and laughed.  “Sorry about that,” he said.  “We were just going.”  This man was incredibly handsome, but both of them were for that matter.  His hair was flying around madly, his hands tugging at the edge of his cream tunic. Both men were wearing clothes typical of Gallifreyan children, but each had a circular seal on a long gold chain around their neck.

Students of the Academy.

Flushing as she realized she had been staring, Rose looked to the ground.  “No matter,” she said.  Her mouth screwed into a conspiratorial smile.  “I won’t tell anyone you were out here if you don’t.”  As she raised an eyebrow, the boys realized she was on to them.

With a laugh, the curly haired boy flopped down on the ground, pulling Rose with him.  Something in him still frightened her, but she brushed it aside.  Maybe these men could be the friends she’d wished for.  The other man sat down on her other side, remaining sitting up as the other laid down.

Curly hair propped his head up with his arm, saying, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.  I’d’ve remembered your beauty.”  Rose blushed.  “Are you new to the Capitol?  Are you from Arcadia?”  She shook her head, and he continued, “I’d be honored if you would tell me your name.”

“Koschei,” the other warned, his voice suddenly full of hesitation.

“Theta,” Koschei said in the exact same tone.  “Lighten up.  I’m just making a new friend.  It’ll be no harm.”  And then he added something in a language Rose didn’t understand.  Theta flushed and looked away, scowling.  “Your name, my lady?”

Unused to such treatment, having been mostly ignored in the last few months and hardly spoken to like this before that unless in jest, Rose struggled to remember the things she’d been told.  “‘m not s’posed to say,” she said.

That caught both of their attention.  Theta was the first to speak up.  “You’re the one everyone’s been talking about.  The human.  The Bad Wolf.”  Those words still made Rose shiver, even after all this time.

Koschei’s grin widened.  “They never said you were beautiful.”

Rose blushed again and wondered how the Doctor could ever say that his people were stuffy old men with no sense of humor.  This Koschei bloke seemed like any other bloke, if maybe a bit Jane Austen.  Of course, they looked like teenagers, so maybe they just didn’t know any better.  “I think I’m probably a bit old for you.”

“I’m ninety-seven!  That’s old enough for a--”

“Koschei!”  And then Theta continued on in the other language.

Before they could start yelling at each other, because Rose could tell that’s where this conversation was heading, Rose changed the subject.  “So where were you two off to in such a hurry?”

“Oh, you know,” Theta said, leaning back to lay on the red grass, “just skipping class.”

“They let you do that?” she asked, incredulous that the Time Lords could even think of such a thing.  If they had so many rules, then how could these two rebellious teenagers (assuming that was the age they were) even conceive the idea?

“We’re not very good at following rules,” Theta shrugged, smiling up at her.  Rose couldn’t help but smile back at him.  “Where are you from?”

“You get to ask the questions now?” interjected Koschei, apparently ticked that Theta did exactly what he had scolded Koschei for doing moments earlier.

Rose ignored him when she answered, “A planet very far away.  I’ve only been here three months.  I don’t actually know anything about Gallifrey.  I had a friend who was a Time Lord, but he never told me anything about his home.”

“Well,” Theta said, “Gallifrey is a rather large planet.  The main continent is Wild Endeavor, which is where the Capitol is located, as well as the mountains of Solace and Solitude, but there are several mountains in the area.  I’m from the House of Lungbarrow, which is on Mount Lung overlooking the Cadon River.  Koschei is from the House of Oakdown by Mount Perdition.  It isn’t too far; a couple of hours’ walk.  Anyway, we’re Prydonian, which is why we’ll wear red when we graduate.”

“How long will that take?” asked Rose, lying on her side so she could look at him.

Theta stayed on his back, staring up at the sky.  “Oh, not for a couple centuries or so, depending on how we do on our exams.”

Rose sucked in a breath.  “I can’t even imagine being in school that long.”

Theta turned his head to look at her.  “How long were you in school?”

It was still a sore subject for her, and Rose wasn’t sure that other Time Lords would be as understanding as the Doctor.  “I left when I was sixteen.  Met a bloke, dropped out of school, and regretted it ever since.  Don’t make the same mistakes I did.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Theta said, his ego clearly in the way of any compassion he could have had.  “I’m going to be a Time Lord.  We don’t do that sort of thing.”

His comment felt like a punch in the stomach to Rose.  Sure, Time Lords were superior in most things, but that didn’t give him any right to say that sort of thing to her.  God, she missed the Doctor.  He never judged her for not getting her A-Levels.  It wasn’t like she didn’t regret it every day of her life.  “Yeah, well, I’m not a Time Lord.”

Theta noticed her harsh tone and looked at her briefly, but she was staring up at the sky.  “How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

With an audible gasp, Theta’s eyes widened.  “You’re just a kid!”

Rose shrugged.  “Not from here.  I age differently than you.  I’m actually more of an adult than you are.”

“Rassilon,” Theta hissed.  “Where are you from anyway?”

She sighed.  “Far away.”  And wasn’t that the truth.  Earth was physically far away, Pete’s World even further, and the land of the dead was unreachable.  Well, for now.  If there was even the slightest of chances that she could see the Doctor again, Rose would do anything to take it.  He was the only thing she had to live for and he didn’t even know she was in this universe.

“But you’re human!” he insisted.  “That’s brilliant!  I’ve always wanted to visit Earth.”

“Not all humans are from Earth,” Rose said.  It was true, even if not for her.  “We’ve spread all over the universe.”  Not to mention that she probably wasn’t even fully human anymore.  She couldn’t be.  Why else would the Time Lords have interest in her?

As if he had read her mind, Theta said, “Well, if you’re just human, why are you here?  Why does the Council want you?”

“I dunno,” Rose sighed.  She closed her eyes, suddenly tired. She felt Theta’s eyes on her face, but she ignored him.  Everything that happened in the last six months suddenly crashed down on her, utterly exhausting her.  First the death of her Doctor, then that of her mother, and nearly her own.  It was all too much to bear.

She didn’t realize she had fallen asleep until she was waking up.  Lying there with her eyes closed, as if she could hide from the world, Rose was faintly aware of fingers lightly tracing the hair around her face.  If she tried, she could pretend the fingers belonged to the Doctor and when she opened her eyes she would see familiar brown ones looking back at her with such love...but it wasn’t.  She was on Gallifrey, completely alone in a society she didn’t belong in.

With a sigh, Rose opened her eyes.  Theta was hovering above her, running his fingers over the skin of her face.  As soon as he realized she was awake, he froze for the tiniest of seconds before jumping back like he’d been shocked.  He was staring worriedly at her, like he’d been caught doing something horrible.  Hadn’t the Doctor said something about physical touch being frowned upon by Time Lords?  Maybe Theta was just a rebellious teenager looking to understand his body.  And with that somewhat disturbing thought, Rose changed her train of thought.

She sat up and ran a hand through her tangled hair.  Looking around, she noticed that the sky was growing dark.  Several hours had passed, she guessed.  She still wasn’t sure how exactly time passed here on Gallifrey.

When she looked at Theta, he still looked pitiful, like a deer caught in the headlights.  Rose stifled a laugh, thinking that it was probably a much bigger deal to him than it was for her.  She did, however, allow a small smile.  “Theta, nothing’s wrong.  You’re fine.”

He seemed like a child when he quickly said, “I am terribly sorry.  Please accept my apologies and forgive me.  I did not mean to invade your physical privacy.”  The words seemed rehearsed, his posture tense.

Rose’s smile grew and she shook her head.  “I’m not angry with you, Theta.  But if it makes you feel better, I forgive you.  Trust me, I’ve woken up to a bloke doing much worse.”

At first he looked curious, then horrified, then sheepish.  “If it isn’t too much trouble, would you please not say anything to anyone?  I should hate to lose my place at the Academy over such a base transgression.”

Did all Time Lords have to use such a formal tone and big words?  Rose reached over to put a hand on his shoulder, but quickly retracted it when he stiffened under her touch.  Pulling her lip between her teeth, Rose said, “I won’t say anything.  I wouldn’t have anyway.  Where I’m from, that sort of thing isn’t wrong, but it isn’t bragged about.  I’m not upset, and you shouldn’t be either.”

He looked incredibly grateful to her, rising to his feet without another word.  After a second in which Rose scrambled to her feet, he said, “We should be getting back.  It’s going to be dark soon and I can’t miss supper.”

Leave it to a bloke to be more concerned about food than anything else.

Rose nodded.  “Yeah, I’m not one to be out past dark anyway.  Actually,” she said, “this is the longest I’ve been out of the city anyway.  Usually I just take a walk to clear my head.  But _someone_ distracted me today.”  She bumped his shoulder with hers, just to make him smile.  When she succeeded, she suddenly realized, “Where’s Koschei?”

Theta frowned.  “He went back when we fell asleep.  I don’t think we were being very good friends.  Well, _I_ wasn’t being a very good friend, for that matter.  I don’t think it was you.  He seemed very taken with you, actually.  Usually he isn’t interested in females.”

Before he could go on, Rose interrupted him.  “I could murder some chips right now.”

“What’s that?”

Rose’s jaw dropped.  “You don’t have chips on Gallifrey? Oh, that is just wrong.  They’re sliced up potatoes that are fried and then you put vinegar and salt on them and they’re just heaven.  I guess they’re an Earth thing.  You’ll have to try them sometime.”

Theta’s shoulders slumped a bit.  “We aren’t supposed to leave Gallifrey.”

That surprised Rose.  The Doctor had spent so much time away from his planet, she just assumed Time Lords could go anywhere and when they wanted.  “Oh.”  There wasn’t anything else she could say.  If he was stuck on this planet, then surely she was, too.  Unless the Doctor came to get her, that is.

The rest of the walk was spent in silence.  Not uncomfortable silence, but just the silence of companionship.  Nature in Gallifrey sounded so much different than anywhere Rose had ever been.  Maybe it was the way the wind blew through the silver trees and rustled the red grass, or maybe it was just her imagination.  Either way, she was coming to love it.  Why would the Doctor ever want to leave this place?  He had never been really open with her about his home, even when part human.

When they entered the city, Rose expected him to leave her.  However, he continued walking with her, even if he did stand at least a foot away.  Propriety was important to him it seemed.  That didn’t bother Rose; there was only one Time Lord she was in love with, and it certainly wasn’t this boy she’d just met.

After a few more minutes of walking, Rose finally spoke up, “You don’t have to walk with me, y’know.  I can find my own way.”

“I know,” Theta said.  “I’m going this way, too.  You live at the Citadel, don’t you?  The Academy is right there.  We’re neighbors.”  His smile was infectious, and Rose found herself catching it.

Maybe this friendship wouldn’t be half bad for her.  She could have Theta as her friend, and maybe when she found the Doctor he could put in a good word for the boy at the Academy.

All too soon, they reached the tower that housed several high officials of the Council.  Rose paused by the doorway, waiting to see if Theta would stop, too.  They hadn’t been on a date, but it almost felt like one, especially after he was so embarrassed for doing something he saw as incredibly intimate.  Rose shoved away those thoughts.  She did _not_ like Theta, not in that way, and this certainly was not a date.  Any expectations she could possibly conceive about a kiss were unceremoniously thrown out the window.

It was probably just a result of her being lonely for so long, of the man she loved dying out of her control, of being left behind yet again.  Theta didn’t deserve to be the end of her misguided affections just because he was the first person who showed any interest in a long time.

She gave him a quick smile.  “It was nice meeting you.”

He nodded several times.  Rose turned to walk into the building, but Theta stopped her.  “I’d like to see you again!” he said, his words running together due to the speed.  She looked back at him, and he continued, “I mean, I had a good time today.  I wouldn’t mind skiving off again if it meant I could see you.”

Rose smiled and felt the heat come to her cheeks.  “You know where to find me.”

Theta grinned and dipped his head, as per Gallifreyan custom.  After another moment, he walked away, looking back over his shoulder at her.  Rose slipped inside the door and headed upstairs, furiously trying to calm down the butterflies rearing up in her stomach.


	5. Arkytior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rose and Theta grow closer, and things on Gallifrey progress. Forgive Theta for acting like Anakin Skywalker; he refused to behave, that arrogant little dick.

_Chapter IV - Arkytior_

_ _

Squinting in the bright sunlight, Rose laughed as she rolled onto her back.  Theta smirked at her reaction to his dirty joke, suddenly glad he’d decided to forgo propriety and tell it anyway.  Rose kept laughing uncontrollably, feeling her abdominal muscles begin to seize up and cramp.  Really, she shouldn’t have ever let him hear her say ‘fuck.’  It was now his new favorite word, using it in every scenario--especially jokes.  She hadn’t laughed that hard in a very long time.  Could she really have only known Theta for two months?

They tried to sneak away together at least once a week, but his duties at the Academy were growing heavier since the end of term was approaching.  In two weeks, he would be off to Mount Lung for a month and a half.  Rose tried not to feel sad about her only friend leaving, but she couldn’t help but admit that she’d grown incredibly fond of Theta.  He made living on Gallifrey without the Doctor bearable for her.

Finally calming down, Rose breathed deeply and stared up at the orange sky for a moment before closing her eyes.  She heard Theta settle down beside her and, after a few moments, took her hand.  A slight smile graced Rose’s face, for she knew that simple handholding was taboo for Time Lords.  Naturally, the Doctor held hands with anyone he could.  But for Theta, he was only testing the limits of what was appropriate.  They were neither married nor courting, so this was highly rebellious.

The Doctor would be proud of Rose, corrupting other Time Lords before they were even a century old.

A bubble of laughter erupted from Rose’s mouth, and she squeezed Theta’s hand.  “Why doesn’t Koschei hang out with us anymore?” she asked.  For the first several weeks, both students had escaped to the hills with Rose at any chance they got, but recently only Theta had been coming and Rose didn’t know why.

Theta was silent for a moment before responding, “He thinks you’re beautiful.”

That wasn’t really an explanation, but Rose flushed anyway.  So was this a matter of jealousy?  Surely they weren’t as daft as human blokes who would call dibs and then proceed to argue over who the girl really belonged to.  Rose seriously hoped not.  That hardly seemed fair, especially if she was not in love with Theta.

Well, trying _very hard_ not to fall for Theta.

There was more silence between the two, with only the wind and the birds making noise.  Almost absentmindedly, Theta began stroking the back of Rose’s hand with his thumb.  It was such a familiar motion that Rose felt tears coming to her eyes.  Bloody hell, did Time Lords have classes for this sort of thing?

She missed the Doctor more than anything.

“And what about you?” she asked, feeling bold.  It was a coping mechanism, she figured.  Do what frightens you, and you’ll forget what makes you sad.  She hoped it worked.

Theta was quiet, but his thumb kept stroking her hand.  The act of defiance was steady and soothing.  Finally, he said, “What about me?”

Her stomach dropped.  She had to clarify now.  Her cheeks felt hot and not just because of the heat of the twin suns.  Her skin probably matched the color of the grass.  He was waiting for an answer.  “Do you think I’m beautiful?”  _For an ape?_

When he ripped his hand from hers and leaped to his feet, Rose just _knew_ that the Time Lord Academy taught their students to avoid uncomfortable questions.  The thought made her laugh.  No matter what planet or species, Rose Tyler was able to make men feel uncomfortable.  It was one hell of a skill.

Rose raised an eyebrow and wiggled her bum against the ground, purposely showing herself as getting comfy.  However, she realized a second too late that wiggling around below a bloke was enough to make a human jump her, but would probably send an almost Time Lord running.

Theta fought a smile and sat down next to Rose, his fingers tugging at the grass they’d crushed.  He ran the red blades through his fingers, not looking at her.  A few minutes passed and he said, “Won’t you tell me your name?”

She sighed.  Something in the back of her mind reminded her that she couldn’t tell him for several reasons, including the fact that the Time Lords forbade it of her.  She might have a comfortable life here, but she was still very much a prisoner of the superior species.  Rose exhaled and said, “You know I can’t, Theta.”

“You know mine.”

“I know the name by which your school friends call you,” she said.  “There’s a difference.  There’s only one time you could ever share your name.”

He paused, staring at the grass between his fingers, then met her eyes.  “And if I wanted to share my name with you?”

Rose raised an eyebrow and pressed her lips together in a tight smile.  “Is that a proposal?”

Theta shrugged.  “I think you’re beautiful,” he said, reverting the conversation so that he could answer her question from earlier.  A pair of flutterwings flitted by.  They were beautiful, but not in the same way as Earth’s butterflies.  Rose watched him as he stared after the insects, following the way they flew through the grasses.  “I don’t want to marry anyone my elders tell me to.”

Ah, there was the crux of the matter.  “You sound like a child.”

Theta whipped his head around to glare at her.  “I am _not_ a child.  And I don’t want any of the stuffy girls the Council finds appropriate.”

“Well, then you don’t want to marry me, either.”

“I didn’t mean that.”

Rose sighed and sat up, tilting her head to look at him.  “Theta, I am not one of your people, and...I’m not looking for someone right now.  I just lost someone and I’m not ready to move on.”

She could imagine him saying something like ‘I’ll be here when you are’ but she was glad he didn’t.  All Theta said was, “I can’t keep referring to you as ‘you’ and ‘her’ and Bad Wolf.  That’s not your name.”

“Call me Bad Wolf,” she suggested, even though he just said he couldn’t.  “It’s a title that the rest of the Time Lords use for me.  Only the High Council knows my name.  When you get on the High Council, you can know my name.  If I’m still here, that is.”

“If your Time Lord lover doesn’t take you away by then,” he said bitterly.

Rose felt anger build up in her chest.  “He was not my _lover_ ,” she spat.  “Not like that.  Not until the very end.”  And even then, her human Doctor was gone much too soon.

“Maybe I should just go spend my time with Ushas.  At least she seems to like me.”

“Come off it, Theta,” Rose said, fed up with his whining.  “Stop acting like a kid whose toy has just been taken away.”

“Maybe I will!” he shouted, standing up and stalking off.

Rose knew he needed an attitude change or he would never learn, but she couldn’t help but feel this was partially her fault.  Granted, she couldn’t tell him her name or she would face the wrath of the Time Lord Council, but did it really matter?  She couldn’t wait around Gallifrey for the Doctor forever; she wouldn’t live that long.  And when he did, would he even want to take her with him when he clearly didn’t want her before?

Watching Theta’s back as he sprinted down the hill, Rose felt her eyes start to prickle.  She never meant to ruin the only friendship she had.

* * *

 

Three days passed before Theta returned to the hills where he spent time with Rose.  Although she would never admit it, she was glad to see him.  “You’re going to get kicked out of the Academy if you keep skipping class to come see me.”

Theta shrugged.  “I don’t care.  They’re all stuck-up anyway.  I’d rather hang out with you, Bad Wolf.”  It was the first time he’d called her that.  Rose crinkled her nose.

“Okay, yeah,” she said, “you can’t call me that.  It sounds like the name of a heavy metal band.”  He looked at her quizzically, but she brushed it off as just another Earth thing.  It’s not like it really mattered.  Surely there was something he could call her.  “My name...well, it’s a plant.”

Theta’s face brightened with the puzzle.  “Is it an Earth plant?”

Rose nodded.  She didn’t know if they had roses on Gallifrey, and it wasn’t like she could flat out tell him.  “That’s just about the only thing I can tell you without flat out breaking the rules.”

He pouted.  “We do that everyday anyway.”  Theta sat in silence for several moments, staring out at the dome of the Citadel while he thought.  Rose laid back on the ground and closed her eyes.  “Can I just pick a plant name for you?  I don’t know enough about the planet Earth yet.”

Rose laughed.  “Sure.”

He was tapping his fingers in various patterns when he sighed.  “The Elders of my House have decided that I am to marry a woman called Patience in a few years, when she is a bit older.  She is not at the Academy, but the relations between her House and my own are weak.  Such a marriage would be politically advantageous.”

Rose squeezed his hand once.  “I’m sorry.”  She dropped his hand and rested her own on top of her stomach.

Theta thought some more, and Rose was just drifting off to sleep when he said, “Arkytior.”

“Bless you,” Rose said.

He laughed and grabbed her hand.  “Arkytior,” he repeated.  “That’s your new name, Arkytior.”

“What’s it mean?”

Theta paused and screwed up his mouth in concentration.  “The best translation is ‘rose’.”  Her eyes widened in surprise.  “You’re familiar with the flower?”

Rose nodded.  “Um, yeah, actually.  It’s a good flower.”

“A good flower for a good girl.”

She stared blankly at him again before snorting and keeling over with laughter.  That was seriously one of the cheesiest things she’d ever heard.  “Oh my God,” she gasped, clutching her sides.  “Please don’t _ever_ say that again.”  Her laughter increased again to a painful level as she thought of his phrase.  Even Mickey had been able to come up with better lines than that.

Her laughter died down after a few minutes, and Theta’s thumb stroked the back of her hand.  Her hands felt so small in his, like a child’s.  “Arkytior,” he said, trying it out in his mouth.  “It fits you.”  He looked at her carefully, searching her eyes for something he was afraid to explain.  When he found it, lost it, and found it again, Theta pushed himself away and sat up to stare once again at the glass dome.  “This is so wrong.”

“What is?” Rose asked, sitting up to follow his line of sight.  “Oh.”

He was going to be a Time Lord.  He couldn’t have time for a human like her, no matter what her perceived position in society was.  It was only a matter of time before she began to age and wither and die, and they would realize what a mistake they’d made in letting her live that long.

“It’s wrong,” he said again, “but I don’t care.”  He turned his head to look at her, instinctively raising his free hand to touch his fingertips to her cheek.  His touch was so light that it tickled, but Rose didn’t pull away.  It had been so long since she was touched in such a manner, or touched at all.  She squeezed his hand and he stared at his fingers on her cheek, saying, “These feelings were supposed to be bred out of us.  We aren’t born out of passion, like humans.  We don’t reproduce by sexual intercourse.  But I...Gallifreyans are Loomed.  Intercourse is viewed as lowly and disgusting.  The boys at the Academy told me that my father betrayed his people and married a human.  She begot me, and that’s why I’m different.”  He paused.  “That has to be the reason I have these urges.”

His words and the state of his body before her would have made Rose blush, but really it just made sense.  The Doctor had always seemed sexually repressed, even to the point where she and Jack would make fun of him, but when Theta spoke of it, she grew saddened for his people.

“I have never been tempted before,” he continued, “because none of the girls at the Academy are like you, Arkytior.  Sometimes I wonder if you are truly human, or if I am truly Gallifreyan.  Because with you...I feel things I shouldn’t.”  His eyes drifted down to her lips, she raised her own hand to press his fully against her cheek.  “I want passion and I want to feel like a _man_ , not a child.  I feel different than my people, and I am terrified that they will sense this is my mind.  I can be myself with you, and that frightens me more than anything.  More than a thousand Daleks, more than a hundred thousand Daleks.  Because you make me feel heated and sometimes I just want...”

Rose’s eyelids felt heavy as his face drew closer, but she fought to keep her eyes open, unsure of where he was going with this.

“Arkytior, you make me want more than the life of a Time Lord.  At night, all I can think about is having you beside me in bed and touching you, making love to you.  I went to the restricted section of the library under cover of night, because I needed to know what was wrong with me, why my body became uncontrollable around you.  And there’s nothing wrong with me, Arkytior.  How could anything be wrong with me for feeling this?  How can wanting you be anything but _right_?”

Just then, Theta closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers.  Rose was hardly a blushing virgin, but this was new for him.  Theta had never so much as held a woman’s hand until Rose came along.  She moved her lips against his, trying to ignite the spark in him that would naturally tell him what to do.  His own movements were hesitant, calculating.

Rose pressed her forehead against his and pulled away from his lips so she could breathe and say, “Just let your body tell you what next.”

She had hardly gotten the words out before his lips were on hers again, his hands moving--one to the nape of her neck, the other to the small of her back, dragging her onto his lap, pushing his hips up against hers.  He pulled her lower lip between his, and Rose slid her tongue along the seam of his lips to taste him.

Instinct must have kicked in because Theta hardly seemed to be thinking about anything as he parted his lips and let her tongue search his mouth.  Gently pressing her down so her back was against the grass, Theta used one arm to prop himself up above her and the other drifted down her arm and over to her stomach.  One of his knees pushed between her thighs as he leaned down to be closer to her, his hand hesitating just before reaching her covered breasts.

Pushing her dress up past her hips so that her knickers were revealed to him, Theta used more force within his kiss, tongue probing her mouth roughly as his hand dipped beneath her dress to reach her breast.

“Please, Arkytior,” he whispered against her lips, “let me love you.”

That word frightened Rose more than anything else, but this was so much more than just sex.  In this moment, beneath an orange sky with red grasses at her back, Rose didn’t feel lonely anymore, didn’t feel like she was waiting for the Doctor.  She didn’t grieve for the man she lost less than a year ago, didn’t long for the man she was waiting for.

Theta was sloppy, but determined, and Rose didn’t care.  This was more than anything she had done before.  It was overwhelming and dizzying and incredible.  When he collapsed on top of her, whispering “Arkytior” and several other things she didn’t understand, Rose didn’t feel a shred of guilt for what just happened.

In fact, she was rather glad.


	6. An Unearthly Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course things won't be easy for Rose.

_Chapter V - An Unearthly Child_

_ _

A decade passed, and then another, and then a few more.  With Theta’s marriage to Patience and quick Looming of a child of their own, Rose retreated into herself, rarely leaving her chambers for the wilds of Gallifrey like she used to.  She had let her guard drop with Theta, only for her heart to be broken again.

It was only made worse a century later when he graduated from the Academy and took the name Doctor.  The pieces fell into place and Rose was left with the picture of the man she would always love, married to another.  Of course he would be the only Time Lord she could befriend in this universe, even as a child.  Rose knew that his people would die and the younger version of herself would fall in love with him, but Rose knew that he couldn’t cross his timeline, couldn’t return here to rescue her like she had dreamed.

She had long since discovered that she would not age.  Less time passed before she realized that she could not die.  Occasionally, one of the Time Lords would come see her and enter her mind, only to find that Bad Wolf had strengthened and taken possession of her mind, fully transforming her physiology to that of something inhuman, but not Gallifreyan.

Rose, or Lady Arkytior as the Time Lords called her, slumped in a large chair by the window overlooking the snow-capped mountains surrounding the Citadel.  Wiggling her fingers through the wisps of golden energy she could summon at will, Rose thought of her late almost-husband and of the man he used to be.

There was a booming knock on the wooden door behind her, but Rose said nothing, leaving the Time Lord on his own to discern whether or not to enter.  In the nearly two centuries she had lived on Gallifrey (or had it been more than that?), Lady Arkytior and the Bad Wolf became a bit of a myth.  Only the High Council knew she existed, and they mostly left her alone to her sorrow.

She didn’t want to be pitied and hated herself for letting herself be miserable, but she was so alone, with no way to get back to her family, no way to end it all for good.  The wisps of light slipped through her fingers, dissipating as the heavy door swung open and a recent graduate of the Academy walked in.

“Excuse me, Lady Arkytior,” he said, and every audible use of that name reminded her of Theta and the man he would become, “but you asked to be kept informed of anything of interest that happened with the Time Lord called the Doctor.”  He paused, waiting for her assent, but she offered none.  “His granddaughter has just been Loomed, a female named Arkytior.  It has been said that the Doctor insisted on that name.”

The shock passed after a few seconds, and staring out the window, Rose croaked, “Thank you.”

When he was gone, Rose allowed herself to crumble, burying her face in her hands.  She hadn’t been this perpetually sad since Jimmy Stone broke her heart.  Why did the Doctor have to go and give his granddaughter the same name he’d given her?  Recycling couldn’t be considered good in this situation, not when she was so in love with him.

Did he even remember her?  Rose had always assumed that the Doctor remembered everything, just chose not to let himself wallow, much like she was doing now.  Surely he hadn’t forgotten the human he’d befriended.  It was selfish, but he had been so in awe of her, Rose almost convinced herself that he would be able to love her like she had loved the Doctor.  But that was when he was Theta, and just a student at the Academy.

Rose stood and took two steps towards the balcony.  Her bare feet were cushioned from the stone floor by the red carpet that spread through most of the room.  The center was adorned with the golden seal of the current Lord President; Rose couldn’t remember who.  To be honest, she had stopped caring when she found out that she would live forever.

Pushing through the doors so that she was out in the open, Rose took a deep breath of fresh air.  She couldn’t remember what the atmosphere on Earth felt like, couldn’t remember the taste of the water, or how it felt to drink a nice cup of tea made by her mother.  Mickey’s face had blurred after fifty years, the smell of hair dye was gone immediately.  It turned out that not being able to die slowly changed her natural hair to an illuminating gold instead of the mousy brown she was born with.  Something to do with Bad Wolf, she figured.

Picking at dirt under a fingernail, Rose thought of how she simply wanted to die.  Her body looked human, functioned like a human--she had to eat, drink, cut her hair, sleep--but she wasn’t.  She didn’t know what she was.  Rose Tyler was the first and last of her kind.

And not in the way that Cassandra boasted.

Thinking of that flap of skin made Rose giggle, a feeling she hadn’t had in a very long time.  If she was ever going to be happy again, couldn’t she create the happiness for herself?  The Doctor wasn’t going to come for her, Theta Sigma had become a different man, Koschei even named himself the Master and the enemy of the Doctor.

In a romanticized world, Rose would assume that they became enemies over her affections.  After all, Koschei grew jealous of Rose’s closer friendship with Theta, proven weeks later when Rose and Theta had sex beneath the orange sky.

Well, it was more than sex.  Back in her old life, that act had just been sex with Jimmy and with Mickey.  After the Metacrisis was left on Bad Wolf Bay with her, that became making love.  And this...Rose didn’t know, but it felt like so much more.

Not that it happened more than once.  Theta had grown even busier with his school work, and grew distant.  Since that day so long ago, Rose had hardly been touched.  The accidental brush of a Time Lord’s arm against hers, the lingering feeling of Theta’s hand clasping hers the last time they spoke, everything was gone.  Nothing on Gallifrey was personal.  Holding hands in public was akin to snogging in front of a group of children.

No wonder the Doctor left and never looked back.

Never looked back at her, she thought sadly.  Rose was a part of his past, part of his future, intertwined within his timelines so that she was trapped on a planet that was doomed to burn yet unable to die.

This life was terribly lonesome.  She wasn’t telepathic like everyone else on Gallifrey, so she didn’t even have the buzz of other voices in the back of her mind.  Gallifreyan culture was formal and impersonal and sad.  Sometimes she wondered if the Doctor was happy in his marriage, if he would miss his wife when Gallifrey burned, if that was why he traveled with so many female companions.

The jealousy of Sarah Jane had long since passed.  If the life of a Time Lord was anything like the life Rose was living, she didn’t blame him for finding friendship anywhere he could.

* * *

 

Pausing at a corner, Rose closed her eyes and listened to the howling in her mind.  The Wolf within was telling her to continue on down and down through the bowels of the Citadel, where the TARDISes were kept.  An urgent howl pushed her on through the dark halls, hoping she wouldn’t be caught.  Time Lords were easily manipulated, but she always felt guilty doing it, even if it wasn’t really her delving into their minds.

Sometimes the power of the Bad Wolf frightened her more than anything else in the universe.

Rose’s boots left only the slightest of sounds against the floor, but with the heightened senses of a Time Lord, she might as well have been wearing tap shoes and clunking around like an elephant.  It was cold down here, probably to keep the TARDISes comfortable since their hearts burned to stay alive.

She smiled, thinking of when she had burned to save the Doctor.

A singing pressed at the edges of her mind, a presence she hadn’t felt in years.  She had been on Gallifrey for nearly one hundred and forty years and hadn’t once heard the first song she’d ever known.  Moved to tears, Rose hurried along the corridor, forgetting about being silent, simply wanting to be near her Heart.

It didn’t take long for her to find a row of cylinders that were the form of a TARDIS when powered down.  She didn’t slow when passing them, wanting to be reunited with the only friend she had left.  The song grew louder as she neared her home, and she halted suddenly when she found it.

The TARDIS.

Dropping to her knees, Rose pressed her hands against the cool metal, spreading her fingers along with her smile.  She rested her forehead on the slick surface, feeling the beautiful ship nudge her mind in what could be compared to a loving embrace.  God, this felt so good.  Rose didn’t feel lonely anymore, not when she had the TARDIS here with her.

The ship was broken, she could tell or was informed (it was all a bit messy along the lines of who had what knowledge).  She wouldn’t be left alone when the ship was considered broken by the Time Lord mechanics.

Rose made it a point to visit the TARDIS every day, strengthening her mental abilities by communicating through their bond.  The TARDIS took Rose under her wing, teaching her the etiquette of telepathy and slowly broadening Rose’s restraints, building up the shields that would protect Rose in the future because the Time War was inevitable and both women knew it.

A few months after Rose discovered the TARDIS, she wasn’t alone when she reached the repair shop.  She could sense two--no, three presences there in addition to the TARDIS.  Peering around a corner, Rose’s stomach flipped when she saw two girls and one elderly man in black.  _The Doctor_.  She knew that one of them was his granddaughter, but Rose didn’t know the other.

She heard the one Time Lady call out, “Doctor!”

The Time Lord turned around, a little miffed.  His granddaughter had already gone into a TARDIS--but not _the_ TARDIS, Rose realized.  She hadn’t known he’d once traveled with another ship.  “Yes, what is it?” asked the Doctor.  “What do you want?”

“Sorry,” the young woman said, “but you’re about to make a very big mistake.”  Rose growled as the girl leaned up against her TARDIS, crossing her arms and (Rose could only assume based on her tone) smiling.  “Don’t steal that one, steal this one.  The navigation system’s knackered, but you’ll have much more fun.”

Rose couldn’t bear to watch as the Doctor stole the TARDIS, the one last link Rose had to her life before.  Shutting her eyes as tightly as she could to keep the tears from escaping, Rose pressed her back against the wall and slid to the ground.  She heard that wonderful sound of the engines wheezing before the song in her head was gone.

Pressing her hands against her head, Rose almost didn’t notice when the young woman approached her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.  Startled, Rose jumped and looked up, nearly bumping her head on the grey wall behind her.  “Are you alright?” the girl asked, her eyes a warm brown color, concern evident.  For the briefest of seconds, something like recognition crossed the girl’s face when she looked at Rose, but then her brow furrowed and the thought was gone.

“Um,” Rose stammered, “yeah, I think.  Just...lonely, I suppose.”

The girl smiled.  “I know just the thing.  Would you like a cup of tea?”

At first, Rose hardly noticed that something was wrong, but then she remembered that tea wasn’t a Gallifreyan custom.  She climbed to her feet and looked directly into the shorter girl’s eyes.  There was nothing there but innocence and good intent, as far as Rose could tell.  She nodded, and let the girl lead her down the corridors and through the Citadel until they reached a small kitchen.

“So what’s your name?” asked the girl as she began preparing the tea.

It had been so long since she’d properly spoken to anyone, Rose wasn’t entirely sure her voice would work.  “Arkytior,” she said.  “Some call me Bad Wolf.”

“That’s pretty,” the woman commented.  “I’m Oswin.  At least I think...yes, I’m called Oswin.”  There was something different about Oswin, like she didn’t belong on Gallifrey.  But then again, neither did Rose.  When the tea was finished and both women were sitting at the table, Oswin cleared her throat and said, “Sometimes I wonder how I got here.”

Rose stared at her, wondering what made Oswin say that.  “What d’you mean?”

Her eyes closed and she simply breathed for a few minutes before saying, “I just know I’m running.  Sometimes it’s like I’ve lived a thousand lives in a thousand places.  I’m born, I live, I die.  I don’t know how I got here, but I just began.  The only thing I can remember is that I told the Doctor to steal that particular TARDIS.  I don’t even know why.”  She folded her arms across the table and dropped her head to rest on her arms.  “I don’t know where I am,” she cried.

Rose reached out a tentative hand to Oswin, pausing before she actually touched the girl’s back.  Something was telling her to stop.

She continued, “I don’t know where I’m going or where I’ve been.  I was born to save the Doctor.  Oh, I don’t know where I am!”

Biting down on her lip, Rose ignored the howling in her head and rested a hand on Oswin’s shoulder to comfort the girl.  As soon as they touched, Rose felt a surge of power and a scream in her head, a golden light behind her eyelids blinding her.  Rose cried out and collapsed onto the table, feeling her mind burn.  It felt like she was on fire, like golden dust was swirling around in her head, smoldering her from the inside out.  The golden howls became too much, and Rose fell into darkness.

* * *

 

When Rose became aware of her surroundings, she was in her chambers.  There was still an intense pressure behind her skull, fire flowing through her veins, but she crawled out of her bed, lying herself down on the cold stone floor, spreading her limbs to stop the fire from spreading.

She could hardly think over the Wolf thundering through her head.

A long period of time passed before Rose grew coherent enough to drag herself up and over to the door.  Every exit from the chamber was locked.  Mere moments after she was crying to be let out, now that she had found a reason to live, a lackey of the Lord President came to her and said that she was too dangerous to be allowed free reign around Gallifrey.

She wept and screamed and refused to eat, but nothing would change their minds.  Rose felt lonelier than ever and sank back into the depression she had escaped with the appearance of the TARDIS.  She couldn’t die, wasn’t spoken to.  The silence hurt more than the pain of being left behind.

When all of tears had been shed, her eyes puffy and swollen, Rose curled up in her bed and yanked the thick blankets over her head.  The Wolf in her mind taunted her, mocked her weakness, told her that nobody loved her.  How could she believe anything else when only her deranged mind would speak to her?

Two days later, Oswin was dead.


	7. Lady of Gallifrey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for this chapter. Nothing explicit, but there is some dub-con because the Master is a bit of a dick (hehe pun intended). The end is a bit trippy, but I'm quite pleased with it. Thanks for all of the support!

_Chapter VI - Lady of Gallifrey_

It only took a few decades for the High Council to change all of its members and Rose was deemed not a threat.  She spent most of her days and a good amount of her nights in the hills outside the Citadel.  Walking through the tall grasses made her feel young again, reminded her of when she was new to Gallifrey.

Closing her eyes against the force of the wind, Rose climbed the hill, humming to herself.  The suns were beginning to set, and so she was going up to a higher vantage point so that she could watch them sink for longer.  With only vague memories of Earth sunsets, Rose had to believe that those of Gallifrey were the most magnificent in the universe.

Settling in the grass, she felt the breezes of high summer whip around her head.  She had only recently begun climbing up this high, where she was higher than even the Citadel.  It was bitterly cold up here after the suns sank, but that was how she liked it.  The fire in her blood had made it impossible to sleep unless she was cold.  Breathing in deeply, Rose picked a few flowers from the area around her and started to braid them together.

Daisies were considered the weakest of all Gallifreyan flowers, no better than common weeds.  Rose didn’t care.  They were from home (because after all this time, she still couldn’t call Gallifrey her home--not without the Doctor here), and lived simple lives, much like Rose.

She smiled to herself when she thought about her first journey into space, her first date with the Doctor.  Jabe had given them a twig, and Rose had spoken to it, half expecting it to talk back.  She was foolish then, assuming that everything was sentient.  No, the twig was just that--a twig, but Rose had met talking flowers and singing flowers, dancing flowers, and murdering flowers (now _that_ was something she was not keen to see again), all while traversing the universe with the Doctor.

Every single thing in the universe was made up in such a way that there was more than met the eye.  Rose liked to think of herself that way.  She, Lady Arkytior, the Bad Wolf, was but a legend for Gallifreyans, and a nuisance for Time Lords.  In the last several years, she had rediscovered her youth.  Sliding down bannisters and chatting to students in the library, Rose was carefully watched by the Time Lord Council.

They knew she was just a human who was an impossibility.  Someone new came by to look into her mind every week, and Rose welcomed it now.  She was tired of being cooped up in her chambers; she wanted her freedom.  If students of the Academy wanted to examine her mind, they would have to leave the Citadel and find her in the fields, playing with children and wildlife.

She would never really get used to having other people in her mind, but since she was human, she wasn’t even sure if they were invading her privacy or if she was just projecting that which they were looking for.  The Doctor would probably be appalled that she was letting any Time Lord who asked into her mind, comparing her to a cheap whore, but Rose was beyond that.

Rose Marion Tyler was her own species, currently living on Gallifrey.  She had come to terms with that a long time ago.  With no job and no responsibilities, Rose was free to do what she wanted.  She could play with the children of Gallifrey, weave patterns of golden wisps of Time, and pick daisies whenever she so chose.

Her daisy chain was growing longer and longer as she kept picking the flowers and tucking them in.  When it was a sufficient length, she started to tie off the ends, singing, “I’ve got a lov-e-ly bunch of coconuts, deedle-dee-dee, there they are, all standing in a row! Bum, bum, bum, big ones, small ones, some as big as your head!”

The figure she’d been ignoring as he climbed up the hill cleared his throat impatiently.  Rose slipped the chain on top of her head, letting it rest on her golden hair like a crown.  Eyes gleaming and smile growing, she looked up and saw a man she did not know standing before her.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” she said.  “Sit down and watch the suns set!”  Rose patted the ground beside her until the Time Lord scowled and sank beside her, sitting a respectable distance away.  There was an unpleasant look on his face, probably thinking Rose was off her rocker, but she ignored his judgements.  “Would you like me to make you one?” she asked, referring to the daisy crown atop her head.

“No,” the Time Lord said curtly.  His voice was deep and biting, and would have made her shiver if she hadn’t gained control of everything over a century ago.  “I hear you are the most powerful being on all of Gallifrey.”

“I hardly doubt that,” Rose said, uprooting long blades of grass.  “I’m nothing special.  Just a Wolf.”

“ _The_ Wolf,” he corrected.

“Oh, so you do know me!” she grinned, dainty fingers braiding the strands together in an intricate pattern.  “Yes, I am the Bad Wolf, but most people just call me Arkytior, or Lady Arkytior if that makes you more comfortable.  Not that I’m really a lady.  It’s just a title given to me by the High Council.  The Lord President does seem to like me.  His predecessor found me a bit childish, I’m afraid.”

Rose pursed her lips and stilled her hands. Turning her head to look at the man, she studied him and tried to discern how she knew him.  There weren’t to many Time Lords she had the pleasure of meeting in her few centuries on the planet.  But this one seemed so familiar.  Then it hit her.

“Ah,” she said, “Koschei.  It’s been a while.  Did you miss me?”

He actually growled at the use of his childhood nickname, and sneered, “Hardly.  I am above such disregard for status, unlike the Doctor.”  If he was trying to goad a reaction out of her, he was unsuccessful.  “Once I realized that you were simply human, I aimed my interests elsewhere.”

Rose shook her head but still offered him a smile.  Even if he wasn’t the Doctor, the Master was one of the first Time Lords she had befriended on Gallifrey. “What brings you up to my hill, Koschei?”

“I am called the Master,” he pressed, voice dangerously rough.

She was not afraid of him.  “Well, then you can drop the Lady and call me Arkytior!”  Finishing up the lei of red grass, Rose dropped the necklace over the Master’s head so that it circled his neck, contrasting against the tight black clothing he wore.  Rose tried not to pay attention to what he looked like or what he smelled like, but it was hard.  She was only human, and humans had base desires that Time Lords lacked.  Oh, well.

The Master in this incarnation--possibly still his first, judging the color of his hair and eyes compared to that of his childhood--was quite handsome.  His eyes were a light green or blue, hair incredibly dark in contrast.  There was something pained in his expression, something wrong with him.

“Did you come to look into the infamous Bad Wolf’s mind?” asked Rose, teasing him with her tongue between her teeth.  He stared at her plainly, a mixture of emotions passing over his face: anger, suspicion, concern, intrigue.  “Come on,” she said, her voice lilting like a song, “I don’t bite...much.”

In all honesty, Rose was incredibly capable of defending herself.  She had strong shields in her mind, a joint effort between the TARDIS when she was docked here and the Wolf in her head.  But in the moment the Master’s eyes locked on hers, Rose felt fear like she hadn’t in many years.

The Master’s eyes flashed, something dangerous lurking within.  “Do not tempt me,” said he, words slow and gravelly.  Just then, Rose wanted to back away, to hide where no one could find her, but she didn’t have a chance to run.  Looking down at her fingers, Rose pleaded for the Wolf to help her.  She cried out as the Master commanded, “Look at me,” as he gripped her jaw and forced her head up.

His fingers were tight; Time Lords were incredibly strong.  The Doctor had never used his strength like this, at least not on a human.  Rose briefly wondered if the Master was going to break her jaw.  He was certainly gripping her face tight enough to.

“Look at me,” he repeated in an even lower voice.  Despite her best efforts, Rose could not disobey.  His eyes were hypnotic, driving into her own.  The Master leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers, plunging into her mind.  Rose gasped; no one had been this forceful and deep before.

The Master flew around her mind frantically, beating through her barriers like sheets of paper.  His speed was unmatched by her; she couldn’t protect herself fast enough.  The Wolf in her head tried to fight back, but that noise beat it down.

_one two three four_

Drums, pounding against her mind as he slammed through every single piece of information he could fine.  It went on and on until he was going through memories Rose didn’t even know she had, and those she had tried desperately to forget.  He was there in the ghost shift room at Canary Wharf, kneeling beside her father as he died, standing in the corner of her mum’s living room on Christmas when she was eight, in the crowd when Jimmy Stone first kissed her, watching as Theta laid her back on the grass--

Rose screamed, gaining control of her body to shove him off of her.  The Master was thrown back, but he quickly caught himself.  Rose was prepared for a fight, the Bad Wolf rising up to protect her.  Breathing heavily, Rose reveled in the silence of her mind without that percussive torture.

_one two three four_

Thinking about it made her gag.

The Master took advantage of her momentary weakness, pouncing on her so that she was pressed beneath him.  He was larger than her, stronger than her.  She was trapped.  He gripped the sides of her head and straddled her hips to keep her from thrashing about.  Rose squirmed as his face ducked down and pressed his lips to hers.  As if he knew she was about to knee him in the groin, he dropped his hips down to pin her to the ground.

She gasped in surprise, and he forced his tongue between her parted lips.  Rose’s lungs were burning; she couldn’t get any air in her lungs with him putting all of his weight on her and shoving his tongue down her throat.  Before he could throw himself into her mind again, Rose bit down on his tongue, causing him to yelp and leap back.

Freed from his weight, Rose scrambled back and curled her hands into fists in case he tried to come near her again.  The Master shouted out into the air, and yelled, “You bitch!”  Quietly, he stalked toward her, Rose’s fingers digging into the dirt as she tried to crawl away, but he made no move to stoop down to her.  His voice was steady and calm when he said, “I thought maybe I would understand why the Doctor spent so much time with an ugly little human like you when we were children.  Did he kiss you gently?  Did he hold you in his arms?”  The Master’s lips curled back into a sneer.  “Did he _make love_ to you?”

Rose fought the tears threatening to fill her eyes.  She didn’t want to think about those weeks with Theta, didn’t want to remember the months she shared with the Metacrisis Doctor, didn’t want to relive the grief she still felt after all this time.

When she didn’t answer, the Master barked out a laugh.  “He used you, little ape, as a childish plaything.  He spent time with you because you were the only one deluded enough to indulge him.  He _fucked_ you because you were there when his body betrayed him like the miserable halfbreed he is.  That’s why he left you after one night of passionate lovemaking.  You weren’t good enough for him because he is a Time Lord, albeit a pathetic one, and you are a human ape.  In fact, that’s what I’ll call you.  You aren’t a wolf, you’re a little monkey.”

Rose knew he was just being mean because she had rejected him and because the drums in his head drove him to madness, but his words still struck her like a knife.  Her chest contracted as she gave into the tears, letting a sob out of her mouth.

“Oh, don’t cry, little monkey.  If you’re nice, maybe I’ll come back and fuck you rotten like the little whore you are.”  He stepped closer to her, but Rose was too upset to move.  She couldn’t even bring herself to run away.  “Goodnight little monkey,” he said, leaning down to press his lips to her forehead, thrusting into her mind once more.

She screamed and he was walking away like nothing had happened.  Tears falling freely, Rose sank down on her side and curled up, pulling her knees to her chest.  The sky was dark with only the stars and two moons shining above her.  She had missed the suns setting.

* * *

 

She dreamed of the Olympics, of a little girl’s drawing that came to life.  Like the Isolus, Rose was all alone on a planet of people who should have been enough but weren’t.  If she could capture all of the people of Earth into a drawing to keep her company, it still wouldn’t be enough.

Rose wanted the Doctor.

She cried for him, chased after him through the long, winding corridors of the TARDIS.  Even the ship had abandoned her, leaving her to run through the halls until she was unable to go on.  It didn’t matter how fast she ran, the Doctor was always just out of reach.

She was falling, falling, falling into the Void.  Her fingers slipped from the lever in Torchwood and she was being pulled into nothingness.  There was no Pete from an alternate universe to catch her this time.  Just as she crossed into the Void-- _into the Twilight Zone_ \--the walls snapped shut and she was completely alone.

But she wasn’t alone.  There were ghosts surrounding her, watching her every move.  Whispering behind her back, skittering just out of sight when she noticed them lurking in the corner of her eye.  Nothing was alive.  The entirety of the Void was blank and dead, a painful white that was more blinding than staring into the sun.

The ghosts were taunting her, snickering at her as she cried and walked in circles, collapsing down onto the floor that wasn’t a floor, couldn’t have been a floor because _something_ had to exist for there to be a floor and this was just nothing.  And then the Master arrived with his drumbeats and kisses.

_one two three four_

She ran from him, but it was futile.  He was everywhere, laughing, laughing, laughing no matter how far she ran, where she turned.  Not just his handsome face that had molested her mind--tantamount to rape on Gallifrey--but every face he would ever have, and others that she knew were not his.

_one two three four_

The Doctor joined the ranks of her tormenters eventually.  There were faces she didn’t know, two she did and those were the worst of all.  They chanted that she was just a silly little whore, nothing like Sarah Jane or Reinette, just a chav from the Estate.  Really, she was lucky to have been allowed onboard the TARDIS.  She begged and begged to be taken with them until they finally acquiesced.

Rose jumped up and down to capture their attention.  The Master was the first to notice.  “Oh, my little monkey,” he said, patting his lap.  “Come and let me take care of you.”

She was burning and falling and flying and drowning, all at once.

_one two three four_

_one two three four_

Why couldn’t she just die already?

Rose screamed out, cried, sobbed, begged the universe to just let her die because this wasn’t life; this was hell.  Why couldn’t the universe have chosen another girl to become the Bad Wolf, someone who was worth the Doctor’s love, someone better equipped to save the multiverse?  She was useless, a little flower blowing in the wind, letting the rabbits come by and eat her up before shitting on her head.

Her head pounded, her mind burned.  Fire licked at her skin, she tore holes in her clothing, just to relieve the pressure on her mind.  Stockings in shreds, skirt bunched up at her waist to try and cool down, Rose finally wandered through the abyss until she reached an oasis.

She chased after the water for an eternity, but it was elusive, dancing away on the wings of laughter as the Doctor and the Master jeered at her uselessness, buzzing around in her mind like vultures on a carcass (if only she were lucky enough to die).  When she finally became weak enough for the oasis to take pity on her, Rose slipped into the water and ducked her head under, letting her golden hair swirl around her head.  Her lungs burned, but she didn’t resurface, wouldn’t let herself resurface.  She wanted to die, damn it!

Why couldn’t she just die?

Rose was dizzy and her head felt like it was going to burst-- _she needed a Doctor_ \--but she refused to live, didn’t want to go on.  The universe was not on her side.

She lifted her head out of the water, out of the Void, out of the darkness just as the suns were rising.


	8. The Time War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we begin to get some answers and start journeying into the foray that is the "-- of the Doctor" trilogy.

_Chapter VII - The Time War_

Small hands grasped her own, tiny screams piercing her ears.  She ran and ran, pulling the children along behind her, one small girl clinging to her back.  How could the Time Lords have not seen this coming?  The Citadel was impenetrable, but Rose was taking no chances with the children of Gallifrey.

Each younger than eight years of age, these children had no protection if their Time Lord parents were called away to war.  Rose was mostly left alone because of her weak state as a human.  Only the Lady President Romana kept the Time Lords from keeping Rose locked away.  At least Romana was able to see that Rose could keep the children safe.

The Time Lords could regenerate if killed, but if killed before the regeneration was complete, they were made permanently dead.  Rose had been loathe to hear that the Master had been resurrected and given a new regeneration cycle to become a warrior, but as long as he kept his distance, Rose could care less.

There were only a few Time Lords Rose didn’t despise.  Centuries had passed during which she came to hate the monsters that the Time Lords had become.  Still a prisoner on Gallifrey, she had no escape from the evil that possessed the planet.  Only Daleks were seen as worse in her eyes, and even then Rose remembered the Dalek who changed before her very eyes.

If Rose couldn’t die, how long would it take the Time Lords to realize that she could be used as the ultimate weapon?  Of course, if it meant saving the universe so the Doctor didn’t have to, she would give her life in a heartbeat.

Rose thought that the Time Lords knew she could be used as protection, but something was keeping them from turning her loose on the Daleks like a storm.  She thought it was Romana, but just maybe it was the Doctor.  No, he couldn’t have remembered her; she was a girl from his future, a child from his past.  Rose was a memory locked in stasis which would never be fully realized.

Ushering the children into a dark room, Rose sensed the presence of several Time Lords behind her.  The full powers of the Bad Wolf had been bestowed upon her over the centuries; she was able to bend Time to her will.  She warped the fabric of reality around herself and the children.  Time Lords were hardly better than Daleks; she would not give them the chance to use these children as soldiers.

They were safe in the little room Lady Romana had procured as temporary shelter, and Rose let go of the glowing threads.  As soon as she did so, the Time Lords were upon them.  She didn’t have time to seal the door and couldn’t bend the fabric anymore or she would risk extreme exhaustion or fainting and she could _not_ let that happen.

“Lady Arkytior, Bad Wolf,” the man in front, a Time Lord Rose recognized as Rassilon, said, “you are being detained for interfering with the commands of the High Council, evading summons, and fraternizing with the superior species, particularly the renegade Doctor, who would be accused of high treason if he weren’t under the protection of--”

Rose interrupted, knowing full well that the Master was the one who told Rassilon of that one night she spent with Theta when she was still young, “I want to see the Lady President.”

A few of the Time Lords behind Rassilon exchanged nervous glances, but most seemed unfazed.  Rassilon himself simply grinned and said, “Romanadvoretrelundar has been deposed from office.  I am now Lord President of the Supreme Council of Gallifrey and All Her Dominions, Holder of the Wisdom of Rassilon, Preserver of the Matrix, Guardian of the Legacy of Omega.”

“What happened to Romana?”

“She, like her comrades in arms, has been shipped off to fight the Dalek army near Karn.  Now,” he continued, unfazed by her eyes that were beginning to shimmer, “Bad Wolf, we are going to the Omega Arsenal in the Time Vaults.”  As they walked, he kept on talking.  “You have become a danger to Gallifrey and to the Time Lords, and it is time to rectify that.  As is a punishment to an immortal being, you will be uploaded to the system, stripped of identity, and imprisoned in the most dangerous weapon in the universe.”

“And why would I agree to that?” asked Rose, tilting her head to the side, wisps of golden light hovering around her fingertips.

All was silent as they marched through the Citadel, through thick crowds of people staring.  They went down and down into the depths of the dome, until they were standing in a dark chamber full of pedestals and shelves.  Only a handful of objects were scattered about, most having been taken to fight the Daleks in every corner of the universe.

Two Time Lord soldiers took hold of Rose’s arms, gripping her so tightly she worried they might cut off her circulation.  “Because if you are lucky,” Rassilon said, finally acknowledging her question, “you might outlive us all.  The Moment was created by the ancients of Gallifrey as the most powerful weapon: the galaxy eater.  It is forbidden unless Gallifrey is in such grave danger that destroying everything would be the only way to save the rest of the universe.  Which, of course, will never happen; the Time War will be won soon, the universe rid of Dalek filth.  But you have turned out to be quite a menace, Miss Rose Tyler.”

Hearing her name for the first time in centuries made Rose’s skin crawl, especially coming from the lips of Rassilon.

“You will be enveloped into the conscience of the Moment so that, if ever used, you will feel the pain of every Dalek you kill.  And by never dying, you will be an eternal energy source.  Not to mention a pretty interface.”

“Go to hell,” Rose growled, baring her teeth.  It was moments like this that made the Bad Wolf make herself known, taking control over Rose’s body and trapping her in the back of her mind.

Rassilon rolled his eyes and gripped his staff.  Judging by the way he looked to the Time Lords around them, he gave them a mental command that Rose could not understand.  They started dragging her towards the pedestal about fifteen feet away, but not without a fight.  Rose struggled and kicked and flailed, but it did her no good, because as soon as she was standing before the box before her--a cube covered in gears and runes about a foot cubed--there were icy hands on her temples and she knew no more.

* * *

 

She was floating.  Somewhere above the Earth, above Gallifrey, above the universe itself.  Free to be herself, free to shine, free to move.  Golden light surrounded her like the dust of a supernova.  She could see everything.  To her left was the impossible planet and the black hole, to her right was New Earth.  Raxacoricofallipatorius was off in the distance, as was its twin planet, Clom.  The entire universe was at her fingertips, within her reach.

But with freedom came the shackles of responsibility.  Skaro loomed, threatening Gallifrey with its metal machines who knew nothing but hatred.  The Time Lords fought their deadliest adversaries, but had become too vain to realize that they were no better than the monsters that threatened their children.  The two species were more alike than they would ever admit, both doing what they thought was right, what they had been told was right.

Her well-worn boots made no sound as she walked down the open corridor.  The marble floors gleamed, a juxtaposition of a planet long abandoned and perfect cleanliness.  But things were not always as they seem, and this abandoned planet was not forgotten or alone.

She blinked and then she was leaning against a wall with forest wallpaper.  A little girl was on the floor drawing pictures.  Rose smiled and said, “I like the wolf.”

The girl jumped and twisted around, wielding her colored pencil as a weapon.  “Who are you?  How did you get here?”

Rose raised an eyebrow and said, “Don’t worry ‘bout me.  I’m not really here.”

Cocking her head as she observed Rose, the girl asked, “Have I seen you before?  Were you in my Library?”

Shrugging, Rose plopped down and sat cross-legged on the floor, running her fingers over the other drawings.  “I’m in a lot o’ places, me.  Dunno if I was in _your_ library, but I’ve been to plenty o’ libraries.  So what’s your name?”

“Charlotte Abigail Lux,” she said, “but everyone calls me Cal.  Do you like books?”

“Never really liked reading but I had a friend once who loved books.  He would spend more time with books than with people.  I think he was lonely.”

Cal nodded in agreement.  “That’s why I have my Library.  But things went wrong.  There aren’t supposed to be any people in my Library.  Not after what happened.  I don’t like the monsters in the dark.”

“Scared of the dark, are you?  Well, that’s easily fixable,” Rose said, a smile growing on her face.  Cal seemed skeptical at best, but those monsters must have been pretty damn frightening if she looked somewhat relieved that Rose was there, suggesting that she could get rid of the beasts.  “So what kind of monsters are these?”

With a shrug, Cal turned back to her drawings.  Just then, the television flickered to a program that was not cartoons.  Seeing as the remote control was on the floor several feet away from Cal, Rose’s attention was immediately drawn to the screen.  She didn’t know what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the Doctor up on the screen, peering right at them.  Well, right at Cal, rather.

Cal didn’t seem nearly as surprised as Rose would have expected, especially when the screen switched back to the show she had been casually watching earlier.  Rose stood, taking a few steps towards the television when the Doctor was suddenly back.  “Doctor!” Rose exclaimed, but he was only looking at Cal.

Ignoring what the Doctor was saying--something about the shadows--Cal turned to Rose and said, “Why can’t he see you?”

Pressing her fingers lightly to the screen, knowing she wouldn’t leave fingerprints, she answered, “‘m not really here.  I’ve got to go.”  And just as Cal blinked, the mysterious woman was gone and Dr. Moon was standing exactly where she had been previously.

Rose found herself in a library.  Not just a library, but the Library--an entire planet devoted to books.  She could hear whispers from all around her, but not in a language she knew, not even from a physical being.  Gold light buzzed around her, mostly out of nerves than of fear, and it seemed to make the whispers stop or at least weaken.  She took a step forward.

Her ears perked up and she broke into a run when she heard a voice she hadn’t _really_ heard in such a long time.  He seemed just as manic as always, if a little frustrated.  There were two female voices goading him, one flirtatious and the other defensive.

Bounding around a dim corner, she nearly ran directly into the Doctor.  Chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath, she gasped, “Doctor!”  He didn’t hear.  There was a woman in a white astronaut suit approaching him, her blonde curls bouncing as they argued.

She was so thrilled to see him that she missed the beginning of the fight, but Rose could tell that the Doctor was being very cautious around the woman.  “Doctor,” the woman said, her eyes very sad, “one day I’m going to be someone that you trust completely, but I can’t wait for you to find that out.  So I’m going to prove it to you.  And I’m sorry. I’m really very sorry.”  She stood up on tiptoes and leaned her head close to the Doctor’s ear.

Ears like a Wolf, Rose tried not to feel sick when she realized what the woman was saying: the Doctor’s name.

He stared at her in shock, and Rose couldn’t help herself any longer.  She stepped right up to him and touched him on the arm, half expecting to pass right through him.  He was solid and so was she.  But just as he looked like he might have felt something unordinary, Rose blinked and she was gone.

Disoriented from the sudden movement, Rose quickly spun around, trying to determine where she was.  Still shaken from being so close to the man she loved, she quickly grew dizzy and nearly collapsed to the floor.  That was when she noticed so many pairs of feet.

Everyone was standing in silence while one man spoke directly to a large glass encasement filled with a dense fog.  Her heart was racing, blood furiously pumping through her veins, ringing in her ears.  She couldn’t hear what the man was saying, what the fog could have been replying.  There was a definite conversation going on, but she just couldn’t understand the words.

And then out of nowhere, something green was splattered on the inside of the glass, accompanied with a screeching roar that made Rose quake with fear.  When an enormous claw banged on the glass, she screamed and shot back along the floor.  What the hell was that thing?

The scream echoed in her ears on repeat, piercing her head, causing her to grasp at her hair and long to pull it out, just to relieve some of the pain.  She closed her eyes and felt the agony in the room.  Bloody humans unable to control their emotions.  Just on the brink of passing out from the whelming flood of feelings, Rose felt everything grow quiet and still.

Ever so carefully, she opened her eyes.  She was in the dark; it was cold and windy.  A shiver ran down her spine, like the feeling that someone was watching her.  Turning slowly so as not to alarm whatever or whoever was behind her, Rose suppressed another shudder.

The sight behind her made her scream.

Looming over the top of the building--for she seemed to be on the roof of a building in a city--was the Statue of Liberty, its lips curled back in a snarl that revealed a set of sharp teeth.  Rose stumbled backwards, keeping her eyes on the abomination.  She had heard stories--nightmares--of the Weeping Angels, one of the oldest races in the universe and the most menacing, being the only species to kill you kindly.

Hearing soft murmurs behind her, Rose quickly threw a glance over her shoulder, hesitant to take her eyes off the statue.  Of course, displacing her in time would prove to be no big deal, seeing as she wasn’t really here anyway.  That begged the question, if Rose was lucid, where was she?  Shrugging that thought off for later, Rose turned, willing to risk herself if she could just find out what the bloody hell was going on.

A man was standing on the ledge of the roof, a woman facing him with her hand on his chest.  Rose stomach rose to her throat; surely the woman wouldn’t push him.  Extending her level of hearing to beyond the wind, she heard the man say, “And anyway, what else is there?  Dying of old age downstairs, never seeing you again?  Amy, please.  If you love me, then trust me, and push.”

Rose honestly thought she was going to be sick, but there couldn’t be anything she could do.  Time was intricately woven around this point in time; not quite fixed, but too important to mess with--even though that’s what the man and woman were trying to do.

“I can’t,” the woman--Amy--said, her voice shaking.

“You have to,” Rory said, his own voice weak.

“Could you?” Amy fought back.  “If it was me, could you do it?”

There was a pause, and with tear filled eyes, Rory said, “To save you, I could do anything.”

Amy’s shoulders rose and fell as she took a deep breath, climbing up onto the ledge next to Rory.  “Prove it,” was all she said as he helped steady her, clearly unhappy with the way she stood with him.

“No, I can’t take you, too--”

“You said we’d come back to life,” Amy interrupted.  “Money where your mouth is time.”

“Amy, look--”

“Shut up,” she insisted.  “Together, or not at all.”  Amy took Rory’s hands, both of them visibly nervous as they wobbled on the ledge.  Rose wasn’t sure how high up they were, but any fall from a building that could rival the Statue of Liberty in height was enough to kill.

Just then, the door to a fire escape burst open with a clang, and out ran another man and woman.  Rose recognized the woman as the woman from the Library who knew the Doctor’s name.  And the man couldn’t be anyone but the Doctor.  He had regenerated, but Rose would know him anywhere, would know any of his many faces.

“What the _hell_ are you doing?” shouted the Doctor, running to where the couple was swaying with the wind.

“Changing the future,” Amy said dreamily, not looking away from Rory’s eyes.  She honestly believed they would come back to life, and if they didn’t, at least neither would have to live without the other.  “It’s called marriage.”

And with that statement, the husband and wife dropped their inhibitions and allowed themselves to fall over the side of the building, wrapped in each other’s arms.  The Doctor and the other woman seemed frantic as time seemed to slow.  Flashes of electricity burst all over the roof, sizzling away at the building.  Rose felt this timeline disintegrate, felt time being forced backwards and forwards until it corrected itself.

Before she could try and get the Doctor’s attention, Rose felt herself fling through time and space from one paradox to another.

There was a collective hiss before Rose opened her eyes, and she prayed that it wouldn’t be snakes, despite how Indiana Jones that might be.  She didn’t expect to see ghostly figures in suits and top hats before her, and another mixed species party beside her.  There were two humans, a Silurian, a Sontaran, and the Doctor, in some sort of face off with the hissing aliens.

“Madam, boys,” the Silurian woman said, “combat formation.  They are unarmed.”

“So are we!” one of the human women said.

As could be expected, the Sontaran barked, “Do not divulge our military secrets.”

The Doctor, not dressed in the tweed jacket as before (since when did he have clearly different styles of dress?), looked tired as he said, “Stop this.  Leave them alone.”

“Your name, Doctor,” the human with the top hat aliens said.  “Answer me.”

“Doctor?” asked the second human woman, this one in modern clothes.  She seemed vaguely familiar to Rose, but then she realized that this was the spitting image--if not the same woman--as Oswin, the girl who had told the Doctor to steal the TARDIS back on Gallifrey so many years ago.  Rose stared at Oswin, disturbed by the sight of her here and now, and in modern dress.

The argument continued with threats being passed around, particularly from the Sontaran, but Rose lost interest.  She was more focused on their surroundings, and in the one person who did not seem remotely involved.  The woman who knew the Doctor’s name, the woman who had been on that roof mere moments before was standing beside a large set of doors, looking very uneasy.

Rose crossed to the curly-haired woman and narrowed her eyes.  “Who are you?” she asked, wondering if she could even be heard.

To Rose’s surprise, the woman looked directly at her and said, “River Song.  I don’t believe we have officially met, Rose Tyler.”

Hissing in a sharp breath, Rose growled, “Do you have any idea what you have just said?”

A playful smile graced River Song’s face.  “Oh, yes.  You see, I am the Doctor’s wife.  I know exactly who you are, and I know things that even he doesn’t.  I know the power of the Bad Wolf, the legend of Arkytior, and the circumstances under which you are dreaming.”

She didn’t trust River Song, not in the slightest, but couldn’t help but feel like this woman wouldn’t be harmful to her.  She didn’t feel like a Time Lady, not in the way that Rose was used to.  Sure, there was something about Time around the woman, but River Song was not of Gallifrey.

Rose was struggling to put together a coherent question when River gave her a sad smile and said, “It’s time, dear.  Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not,” Rose said.  “Why would you think--”

She didn’t have a chance to finish her question, because River said something Rose couldn’t understand but recognized, the doors opened, and she heard the sounds of war.  It was her call to the Last Great Time War.


	9. Conscience of a Weapon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support!

_Chapter VIII - Conscience of a Weapon_

Trapped in a confined space, Rose could hear and feel every Gallifreyan that was harmed and killed in the attack.  Arcadia had fallen, the Citadel was in shambles.  This final battle on the last day of the Time War rendered Gallifrey nothing like what it had been when Rose was first brought here centuries ago.

She did not even have a proper body; only her mind and spirit was placed into the server, for lack of a better term, of the Moment.  She was a galaxy eater, could destroy anything in mere seconds.  It had been years, the power of regeneration flooding Gallifrey as the Daleks killed the Time Lords over and over.  New regeneration cycles were being handed out, if only to prolong the inevitable.

Even Rose could see the fall of Gallifrey in the very near future.  The Time Lords of old could have seen it, could have prevented it.  Gallifrey’s current government officials were controlled and blinded by their hubris, negatively affecting the rest of the universe.  So many civilizations were unable to protect themselves from the Daleks or even from the Time Lords.  Fighting a losing battle with a winning mindset would only damn everyone else in existence.

Whispers began to reach her mind, as they usually did when a Time Lord was thinking about the power of the Moment.  Of course, the weapon’s existence was one of the most carefully guarded secrets in the entire universe.  She had been left so very alone once all of the other weapons had been taken and used and destroyed.  She was feared more than the Daleks because she was sentient; she could pass judgement on the unlucky person who had the gall to use her.

Footsteps.  Passing around her in circles.

Fingertips.  Lightly touching the edges of her form.

Scratchy fabric.  Surrounding her, smothering her.

_Freedom_.

Voices echoed all around her, within her, from her.  One voice in particular, worn and gravelly, “Time Lords of Gallifrey, Daleks of Skaro, I serve notice on you all.  Too long I have stayed my hand.  No more.  Today, you leave me no choice.  Today, this war will end.  No more.  _No more_.”

She was no longer herself, but she had enough of Rose Marion Tyler within her that she felt that familiar beating of the man’s hearts, knew the singing of the TARDIS she was carried into.  The darkness eased with the introduction of a golden presence in her mind, before her mind’s eyes.  Those words-- _no more_ \--repeated over and over, amidst the groaning and wheezing of the TARDIS’s engines as they moved.

A thud accompanied the landing, but the change in atmospheric pressure was nonexistent, the chemical makeup of the air constant.  They were still on Gallifrey, then.  She was picked up, carried out of the doors, slung over the man’s shoulder.  The coarse fabric of the sack was uncomfortable, the suns even worse.  Everything was dry; she didn’t need to see to know that.  The land had burned in battle.

_No more_.

Walking, walking, walking for miles and miles and miles.  Huffing and puffing and blowing the house down was a complimentary reaction offered to her by the man.  What a fitting gift to a Wolf, to a destroyer of worlds.

_No more_.

Finally, a door creaked and the muttering stopped.  Shade above, release from the confines of the bag.  Fingers dancing about her edges, the voice rhetorical, “How, _how_ do you work?  Why is there never a big, red button?”  Beyond her control, she fabricated a distraction outside the shelter.  The man backed away from her, giving her the chance to work her magic.  Deciding on a shape that would be most comfortable for her and for the Time Lord renegade with his back to her, she blinked and found herself in a barn, sitting on a brass, clockwork box. “Hello?” the man called, peering out the door.

He was old, looking worse for wear in his boots and leather jacket, gruff face and military hair.  Of course, that was nothing she couldn’t fix in the long run.  “It’s nothing,” she said, voice weary after so many years of disuse in a non-corporeal state.  “‘s just a Wolf.”

The man--not the Doctor, for he had decided he lost his rights to use that name, had broken that promise-- _the Warrior_ \--was shocked to see her and rightfully so.  There was a war on; mysteriously appearing people just couldn’t be trusted.  “Don’t sit on that!” he shouted, stepping towards her.

“Why not?” she asked, slowly getting comfortable using her voice.

He pulled her up and pushed her across the small room--barn?--and out the door, all the while saying, “Because it’s not a chair, it’s the most dangerous weapon in the universe!”

Her ego couldn’t help but correct him in that she was the most dangerous weapon in _any_ universe.  But he wouldn’t know that, not till he met her properly.  The door was shut behind her, but it didn’t matter, because she just had to blink and there she was again, sitting on that chair.

Raising an eyebrow, she quipped, “Why can’t it be both?  Why did you park so far away?  Didn’t you want her to see it?”

“What who to see?”

Feeling enigmatic, she whispered, “The TARDIS.  You walked for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles.”

“I was thinking,” he said, and she could see him questioning himself as to why he was explaining this to her of all people.  She was just a lowly Gallifreyan, wasn’t she?  Not a Time Lady, not a soldier, just a girl.  And wasn’t he right.

“I heard you,” she said.

“You heard me?”

Drawing herself up to her feet, she started a sort of jig, mimicking his tone and aggression in her own voice.  “No more.  No more.”

“No more,” he repeated.

Her dance got even wilder as she continued to mock him, to mock his pain and grief.  Because, honestly, if anyone was as screwed up as him, it was her.  “No more, no more--”

“Stop it.”

“--no more.”

He narrowed his eyes at her.  “Who are you?”  Just then, the clockwork gears on the box began to rotate, a clicking motion signifying the beginning of the end, but not quite preparing to blow up the planet.  She would know.  “It’s activating!” he exclaimed, pushing her out of the way. “Get out of here.”  He tried to touch the box, but she knew it would-- “Ow!”

She honestly did try not to smirk, just unsuccessfully.  Sometimes inflicting pain was so much fun, especially when he deserved it and doubly especially after a life as long as hers.  “What’s wrong?”

“The interface is hot!”

Raising a hand to fluff her hair, she grinned, “Well, I do my best.”

He didn’t catch her meaning at first, simply saying, “There’s a power source inside.”  Then it hit him. “You’re the interface?”

Both of her eyebrows raised, she let her tongue catch in her teeth for the first time in centuries.  It didn’t feel quite right, so she vowed not to do it again.  “They must have told you the Moment had a conscience.  Hello!” she smiled, wiggling her fingers in greeting. “Oh, look at you.  Stuck between a girl and a box.  Story of your life, eh, Doctor?”  _Especially concerning her._

“You know me?”

“I hear you,” she corrected, even though she did so much more than that, felt so much more than that.  “All of you, jangling around in that dusty old head of yours.  I chose this face and form especially for you.  It’s from your past.  Or possibly your future.  I always get those two mixed up.”  _Or perhaps from both_.

“I don’t have a future,” he said, not even sad about it.  If she didn’t know better, she might have believed him.

It was a little difficult discerning where exactly the Moment ended and Rose Tyler began.  Who exactly was she?  There were many different forms for her to choose from, but this was the most powerful, the most meaningful.  So where did she belong in all of this?  Scrunching her nose, she said, “I think I’m called Rose Tyler.  No.  Yes.  No, sorry, no.  No, in this form I’m called...” Her eyes flashed gold, like they usually did when she was feeling full of Time energy.  “Bad Wolf.  Are you afraid of the big Bad Wolf, Doctor?”

“Stop calling me Doctor,” he commanded, obviously disturbed by the use of his name.  Of course, that wasn’t his real name, but she couldn’t say it even if she did know, and he probably wouldn’t appreciate being called Theta when he was no longer a child on Gallifrey.

Giving away any of this information that she knew from his head and her own wouldn’t do any good, so she left it alone and said, “That’s the name in your head.”

“It shouldn’t be,” said the War Doctor--or maybe simply just the Warrior.  Leave the Doctor out entirely.  “I’ve been fighting this war for a long time.  I’ve lost the right to be the Doctor.”

And he certainly wasn’t the man she had fallen in love with so many times.  But there was still good in him, buried beneath all of that sadness and loneliness.  It was very clear to her that this was the man who had regenerated into her first Doctor, the one with the sad eyes and leather jacket.  “Then you’re the one to save us all.”

“Yes.”

“If I ever develop an ego,” she said, a grin breaking across her face, “you’ve got the job.”

He didn’t seem amused, only wanting to get straight to business, for her to destroy everything he had ever known.  “If you have been inside my head, then you know what I’ve seen.  The suffering.  Every moment in time and space is burning.  It must end, and I intend to end it the only way I can.”

She understood that, even if she didn’t agree with it.  “And you’re going to use me to end it by killing them, Daleks and Time Lords alike.  I could, but there will be consequences for you.”  And for her, but he needn’t know that.  An all-powerful weapon that held the consciousness of a woman who couldn’t die.  She was invincible.  Suddenly, her captivity on Gallifrey ever since her arrival in this universe made sense.  They had always known she would be needed like this; she was the perfect weapon.

“I have no desire to survive this.”

“Then that’s your punishment,” she said, knowing the outcome.  “If you do this, if you kill them all, then that’s the consequence.  You live.  Gallifrey, you’re going to burn it, and all those Daleks with it, but all those children, too.  How many children on Gallifrey right now?”  Even those she and Romana had tried to save would perish.  Rassilon would see to that.

“I don’t know,” but it was an obvious lie.

She decided to let him get away with it.  He would come to regret it soon.  “One day, you will count them, one terrible night.  Do you want to see what that will turn you into?  Come on, aren’t you curious?”  With her words, a swirling gap in the fabric of reality formed itself above them.  There was a wind, and she had to speak louder to be heard over the rush.  “I’m opening windows on your future.  A tangle in time through the days to come, to the man today will make you.”  And just then, a red fez fell through the portal and onto the straw covered ground.  “Okay,” she said, “I wasn’t expecting that.”

If she really tried, she could hear so many different voices coming out of the swirling gap of Time.  None were placeable for her ears, whether as a fault of not coming into contact with the Doctor for centuries or not knowing those who were speaking.  Just pieces were coming through.  Time was distorted; not everything was in proper tempo or in the correct order, all jumbled up.

_“Doctor, what is it?”_

_“Geronimo!”_

_“Who is this man?”_

_“Matchstick man.”_

_“Compensating.”_

_“What you get up to in the privacy of your own regeneration is your business.”_

_“Your majesties, probably a good time to run.”_

_“Clara!  Can you hear me?”_

_“England, 1562.”_

_“Fez incoming!”_

But the fez was already here.  Wibbly wobbly, timey wimey, she thought the Doctor might say in this situation.  Well, a Doctor who wasn’t so serious and intent on dying.  But this Doctor was wasting no time, for this was an anomaly that he could not allow to go unexplained.  Grabbing her hand, he said, “Come on, Bad Wolf girl,” then focused and launched them through the portal.

Falling to the ground like an ungainly sack of potatoes, she took in a deep breath, and realized that for the first time in so very long, she was on Earth.  Real, proper, planet Earth in the prime universe.  She could almost weep if she didn’t think she no longer belonged on this ground she had once called home.

Lifting her head to keep an eye on the Warrior, she saw a pair of eyes she had never thought she would see again, not with her own (although, was she really herself? Being the Moment and not Rose Tyler?).  His hair was not as magnificent as it had been, but the grief in his eyes certainly meant that this Doctor had already lost her to the other universe and the Metacrisis.

Beside her Doctor stood a slightly shorter man in a grayish purple coat: the next Doctor.  Three Doctors in one place?  She really hoped no others showed up or she would have a horrible time telling them apart.

Just then, the War Doctor asked, “Anyone lose a fez?”

“You,” her Doctor said, horror settling on his face briefly before flickering to indifference and confusion.  “How can you be here?  More to the point, _why_ are you here?”

“Good afternoon,” the Warrior said, voice rocky and rough.  “I’m looking for the Doctor.”

Just by the way the Tenth Doctor said, “Well,” she knew she was a goner once again.  “You’ve certainly come to the right place.”

The Warrior gave a stiff nod and gave the boys before him a once over.  “Good.  Right.  Well, who are you boys?  Oh, of course.  Are you his companions?”

She had to stifle a laugh because he was so vain in any incarnation; it was ridiculous for him to think he could just keep on getting prettier and prettier without ever questioning it.  Bow tie Doctor looked like he was about to choke.  “His companions?”

Apparently unconcerned, the Warrior shrugged their confusion off.  “They get younger all the time.  Well, if you could point me in the general direction of the Doctor?”  Both men pulled out their sonic screwdrivers, and she just rolled her eyes.  Honestly, if they could ever use their words like normal, civilized people, everything would get done so much faster.  “Really?”

“Yeah,” said bow tie Doctor, at the same moment hers said, “Really.”

“You’re me?  Both of you?”

“Yep,” her Doctor said, popping that p like he really loved to.

“Even that one?”

The Eleventh Doctor scoffed and looked very annoyed, exclaiming, “Yes!”

“You’re my future selves?”

Again, they both said, “Yes!”

“Am I having a midlife crisis?” asked the War Doctor, and it was really quite funny how concerned for his own sanity he was.  “Why are you pointing your screwdrivers like that?  They’re scientific instruments, not water pistols.  Look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Well, considering they were both seeing their past self, the one who had destroyed their home planet and every single one of their species, they were doing pretty well.  She certainly wouldn’t have been as sane.  The only species she had ever killed was the Daleks, and they deserved it, even if her actions hadn’t been permanent.

Her Doctor smiled.  “Still, loving the posh gravelly thing.  It’s very convincing.”

The Eleventh Doctor grinned as well.  “Brave words, Dick van Dyke.”

Of course, nothing good was going to last permanently.  A troop of soldiers filled the small clearing, a nobleman leading the way.  Spears were pointed at them, effectively sealing them in (well, not her; no one could contain her, except maybe a brass box), and the nobleman said, “Encircle them!  Which one of you is the Doctor?  The Queen of England is bewitched.  I would have the Doctor’s head!”

“Well,” said the War Doctor, “this has all the makings of your lucky day.”


	10. England

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last update for a week and a half, because I'm going to England! My choir is going on tour, so I'll be without my laptop. Enjoy! Thanks for all the support!
> 
> Just a reminder that nothing you recognize belongs to me.

_Chapter IX - England_

Unsurprisingly, the Tower of London was dark, dank, and damp.  A Yeoman Warder opened the door to a rather large cell and barked, “Come on, you lot.  Get in there.”  He pushed the War Doctor, who scowled appropriately.  The door closed behind them, leaving them in the moldy tower.  The Eleventh Doctor was quick to pick up piece of debris of some sort, starting to scratch at a pillar facing the door.

While he worked, he said, “Three of us in one cell?  That’s going to cause some nasty anomalies if we don’t get out soon.”  Rose rolled her eyes; if only they would try the bloody door.  Obviously, the guard hadn’t barred it--they would have heard.  Containment systems from the sixteenth century weren’t exactly stealthy.

“What are you doing?” asked the Tenth Doctor, causing Rose’s heart to leap out at him.  He couldn’t see her, and yet she was so close to him, even if she was not exactly the same woman he had known so long ago (both in his current form and as a child on Gallifrey).

“Getting us out,” Eleven answered without looking away from his scratch marks.

The War Doctor was aiming his sonic screwdriver at the door, doing several sorts of examinations to determine a way out.  Again, Rose was unimpressed.  As was the Tenth Doctor, apparently.  “The sonic won’t work on that.  It’s too primitive.”

Rose could hardly contain herself when the Eleventh Doctor--new king of snark--said, “Shall we ask for a better quality of door so we can escape?”

He was ignored.  The Tenth Doctor continued rambling, as he always did in such situations.  She had forgotten to what extent his gob went when imprisoned.  “Okay, so the Queen of England is now a Zygon.  But never mind that.  Why are we all together?  Why are we all here?  Well, me and Chinny, we were surprised, but you came looking for us.  You knew it was going to happen.  Who told you?”

Everything could unravel if she wasn’t careful.  A fixed point in time was teetering on the edge of destruction, and it all revolved around her staying uninvolved until the last possible second.  Tilting her head to the side, she rose her index finger to her lips, instructing the Warrior to keep her presence a secret.

“Oi!” Eleven exclaimed, looking at his younger self.  “Chinny?”

“Yeah, you do have a chin.”  Still rude and not ginger, even after she was gone.  Not that she ever had control over him anyway.  Eleven went back to scratching away at the stone, presumably leaving a message for a future self to make rescue possible.  How many Doctors were going to get involved in this?

And now the War Doctor was rambling.  “In theory, I can trigger an isolated sonic shift among the molecules, and the door should disintegrate.”

Ten was not amused (and that made Rose snigger, remembering their bet from long ago).  His hands flailed as he said, “We’d have to calculate the exact harmonic resonance of the entire structure down to a sub-atomic level.  Even the sonic would take years.”

“No, no, the sonic would take centuries,” the Warrior corrected, still waving his screwdriver around like a magic wand.  Blimey, arguing Doctors were no fun at all.  “Oh, we might as well get started.  Help to pass the timey wimey.  Do you have to talk like children?  What is it that makes you so ashamed of being a grown up?  Oh, the way you both look at me.  What is that?  I’m trying to think of a better word than _dread_.”

Rose felt her heart rip and fray at the edges.  She had always known that the Doctor’s hearts were perpetually broken, but seeing so many stages of grief right now, from before it happened to depression to acceptance...Rose knew that she couldn’t possibly understand what it felt like to be the Doctor.  The two older men were so haunted and the War Doctor couldn’t be told why they didn’t like him.

The Tenth Doctor was the first to speak up.  “It must be really recent for you.”

“Recent?”

“The Time War,” the Eleventh Doctor clarified, hands halting at the scratching, seeing the war unfold before his eyes.  Rose shivered from her own memories, and she hadn’t even been on the front line or at the fall of Arcadia.  “The last day.  The day you killed them all.”

Ten was quick to say, “The day _we_ killed them all.”

“Same thing,” Eleven shrugged.

Rose chose this moment to speak up, her voice growing deeper because of her entirely inhuman state, feeling her own self moving further away from her and into that gold.  “It’s history for them.  All decided.  They think their future is real.  They don’t know it’s still up to you.”

“I don’t talk about it.”  He was speaking to her, but the other two men couldn’t see her and didn’t know that.

The Tenth Doctor called his younger self out on his senility.  “You’re not talking about it.  There’s no one else here.”  His tone was bitter, his words harsh.  It felt like a slap in the face to Rose, and she wasn’t even the one that the words were meant for.  Could he always have been that blunt?

“Go on,” she said to him, wanting to be the support she knew he needed, “ask them.  Ask them what you need to know.”

“Did you ever count?” he asked, only pausing briefly.  Rose wasn’t even sure she wanted to know the answer.  Her own attempts at saving the children of Gallifrey were pointless in the long run.  She could see that now.

“Count what?” asked Eleven.  Both men stiffened, unhappy with where the War Doctor was leading the interrogation.

“How many children were on Gallifrey that day.”

The scratching on the stone stopped, but neither Doctor was willing to look the Warrior in the eye.  There was too much pain and heartache involved with their pasts; they did not want to pour salt in old wounds.  For as bouncy as the Doctor had been when she travelled with him and even when he was part-human in Pete’s World, Rose knew that the Doctor carried an immense amount of guilt on his shoulders.  For a while she thought that he’d let her carry some of it, but in retrospect she knew that was wrong.  It was like carrying an empty handbag for a sherpa.

“I have absolutely no idea,” the Eleventh Doctor said, but his lies were transparent.

“How old are you now?” asked the War Doctor.

“Ah, I don’t know.  I lose track,” he said, scrambling for excuses.  “Twelve hundred and something, I think, unless I’m lying.  I can’t remember if I’m lying about my age, that’s how old I am.”

The Warrior grew angry.  Rose could see the blood starting to boil beneath his skin.  She longed to touch him, to let him know that she would be there for him, that not everything would be okay, but that was _okay_ because he had her.  “Four hundred years older than me, and in all that time you’ve never even wondered how many there were?  You never once counted?”

Screams from the lips of children pierced Rose’s ears as she remembered Gallifrey as the hills burned.

“Tell me,” said Eleven, “what would be the point?”

The Tenth Doctor didn’t give the War Doctor a chance to answer, simply interjecting, “Two point four seven billion.”

“You did count!” the War Doctor exclaimed, whipping around to look at the man in the brown suit.  His brown eyes were unfocused, miserably staring off into nowhere.

He allowed himself a moment of pity, but then immediately turned on the oldest of the three Doctors.  “You forgot?  Four hundred years, is that all it takes?”

“I moved on!” the Eleventh Doctor countered.

“Where?” shouted Ten, hands clenching into fists at his sides.  “Where can you be now that you can forget something like that?”  His anger radiated, and if Rose weren’t as selfish as she was, she might be able to entirely convince herself that the conversation wasn’t about her.  But it wasn’t; the Doctor hardly remembered her now, just another empty bedroom on the TARDIS.

“Spoilers.”

“No,” he spat.  “No, no, no.  For once I would like to know where I’m going.”

“No, you _really_ wouldn’t.”

The War Doctor looked appalled at their behavior.  He just stared between the two men as they argued back and forth, shaking his head minutely at their behaviors.  It broke Rose’s heart that their own regret would tear them apart.  Of course, it didn’t have to be this way, the Doctor could refuse to use the Moment and Gallifrey would be saved.  But the Time Lords were out of control and the Time War would continue until the entire universe was obliterated in its wake.  What the Doctor had done was not easy, but was _right_.

“I don’t know who you are,” said the War Doctor, “either of you.  I haven’t got the faintest idea.”

Her own voice weak, Rose softly said, “They’re you.  They’re what you become if you destroy Gallifrey.  The man who regrets, and the man who forgets.  The Moment is coming.  The Moment is _me_.  You have to decide.”  Every moment spent here was a moment that the universe suffered.

“No,” he said to her.  The other Doctors followed her line of sight, but they couldn’t see her.  And yet, for one second, Rose could have sworn recognition flared on the pin-striped Doctor’s face.  She quashed that hope before it could get anywhere; that was impossible, even for the most powerful weapon in the universe, even for the Bad Wolf.

“No?” repeated the Tenth Doctor.

“Just, no.”

Eleven laughed at the Warrior’s words, causing the Tenth Doctor to instantly turn his glare onto the older man.  “I’m sorry,” he said, incredibly harsh words biting through the thick air.  “Is something funny?  Did I miss a funny thing?”  He wobbled his head side to side like he did when he was amused, but this was sarcastic and hurtful.

“Sorry,” Eleven said, running his writing utensil between his hands.  “It just occurred to me.  This is what I’m like when I’m alone.”

Sick and tired of their bickering, Rose knew that they needed out of this cell before they all cried themselves to death.  Best start giving them the information they needed to get out of here, since apparently all of them were too daft to try opening the door.  “It’s the same screwdriver,” she said.  “Same software, different case.”

A lightbulb went off above the War Doctor’s head.  “Four hundred years,” he muttered, mostly to himself, but was easily heard by the other two men with extremely sensitive hearing.

“I’m sorry?” asked Ten.

“At a software level, they’re all the same device,” he explained, holding up his screwdriver to make more sense with the pronouns, “aren’t they?  Same software, different case.”

“Yeah,” said Ten, just as Eleven prompted, “So?”

“So,” he continued, “it would take centuries for the screwdriver to calculate how to disintegrate the door.  Scanning the door, implanting the calculation as a permanent subroutine in the software architecture and, if you really are me, with your sandshoes and your dickie bow, and that screwdriver is still mine, that calculation is still going on.”

Both older Time Lords pulled out their own screwdrivers.  The Tenth Doctor held his up to his ear, hearing the tool make some sort of noise that confirmed the calculations.  “Yeah, still going.”

“Calculation complete!” the Eleventh Doctor said giddily after holding his own screwdriver up to his ear.

Rose couldn’t keep a smile off her face.  She was so proud of her boys.  She loved them all in this moment, in every moment until she would be no more.  “Same software, different face,” she said, reminding herself that they really were all the same man, same as the blue-eyed man who took her hand and whispered, “Run,” same as the man who left her on the beach a second time, and same as the child she had allowed herself to fall for hundreds of years ago on Gallifrey.

“Hey, four hundred years in four seconds!” said the Eleventh Doctor, straightening his bow tie happily.  “We may have had our differences, which is frankly odd in the circumstances, but I tell you what, boys.  We are incredibly clever.”

Just then, the cell door burst open, the hinges squeaking and the wood creaking.  It was the Oswin girl who didn’t make sense.  She must have been the companion of the Eleventh Doctor, as it was he who asked, “How did you do that?”

She shrugged.  “It wasn’t locked.”

“Right.”

“So they’re both you, then, yeah?” she asked, looking between the other two Doctors.

“Yes,” he said.  “You’ve met them before.  Don’t you remember?”

“A bit,” she answered.  To Rose’s Doctor, she added, “Nice suit,” and it took every ounce of self control for Rose to reign in her possessiveness of him, because he was not hers, not anymore and maybe not ever.

“Thanks,” Ten said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Hang on,” said Oswin, holding up a hand and narrowing her eyes.  “Three of you in one cell, and none of you thought to try the door?”  Rose rolled her eyes again.  God, they could be so stupid.

The Warrior merely said, “It should have been locked.”

“Yes.  Exactly.”  The Eleventh Doctor clapped his hands together and took a few steps forward.  “Why wasn’t it locked?”

“Because I was fascinated to see what you would do upon escaping,” said a female voice from the doorway.  In all the hubbub, Rose hadn’t even noticed the woman’s return.  Her history lessons explained the red hair and named the woman Queen Elizabeth I.  “I understand you’re rather fond of this world. It’s time I think you saw what’s going to happen to it.”

They were led through the Tower of London with spears at their backs from the human guards, but the real threat was the Zygon population around the Tower.  It was disconcerting how easily they invaded.

Rose kept close to the group, but stayed far enough back that she wouldn’t bump into anyone.  It didn’t seem that should would pass right through them, but she wasn’t sure.  The Tenth Doctor was lingering towards the back of the group, walking with his hands in his pockets like he always did when he was upset.  If only she could reach out and touch him.  Acting out of its own accord, Rose’s right hand drifted up until she was millimeters from the fabric of his long coat.  Tensing, she drew her hand back, not wanting to have her heart broken anymore than it already was after this long day.

The nothingness of being trapped inside the Moment in a long-forgotten archive in the bowels of the Citadel of Gallifrey seemed a much better alternative than this emptiness she felt.

But just then, the Doctor paused and glanced behind him.  His eyes settled somewhere just above her head, narrowing like he knew something was there but didn’t know what.  It had to be impossible for him to see her; she wasn’t really there!

And then Elizabeth caught his attention and Rose was sorely reminded that the Metacrisis Doctor had told her that he had always heard he was going to marry Queen Elizabeth I.  It always seemed like a joke until she was standing in front of the Virgin Queen herself.

“The Zygons lost their own world,” Elizabeth--or the Zygon impersonating her, rather--said.  “It burnt in the first days of the Time War.  A new home is required.”

“So they want this one,” Oswin said, the conclusions lining up in her head.

Elizabeth shook her head.  “Not yet.  It’s far too primitive.  Zygons are used to a certain level of comfort.”

A Zygon guard nearest Elizabeth spoke up and asked, “Commander, why are these creatures here?”

Just in the manner of the Queen she was impersonating, she answered, “Because I say they should be.  It is time you too were translated.  Observe this.  I believe you will find it fascinating.”

There was a glass cube before them with indentations in the corners.  The Zygon who had spoken touched the cube with its hand and vanished.  Behind where it had been standing was a painting that seemed to be three-dimensional.  Rose recognized it from her many years on Gallifrey as typical Time Lord art.  A small, brownish figure appeared in the landscape of the painting.

Oswin gasped.  “That’s him!  That’s the Zygon in the picture now!”

“That’s not a picture,” the War Doctor corrected with a scowl.  “It’s a stasis cube.  Time Lord art.  Frozen instants in time, bigger on the inside, but could be deployed as--”

“Suspended animation!” exclaimed the Tenth Doctor, using that tone of voice that never failed to make Rose’s heart stutter.  “Oh, that’s very good.  The Zygons all pop inside the pictures, wait a few centuries ‘til the planet’s a bit more interesting, then out they come.”

“You see, Clara,” continued the Eleventh Doctor, inspiring Rose to make a mental note that Oswin was called Clara now and that she would need to ask the Doctor about it later, if she ever had the chance.  “They’re stored in the paintings in the Under Gallery, like cup-a-soups.  Except you add time, if you can picture that.  Nobody could picture that.  Forget I said cup-a-soups.”  This incarnation seemed to be flustered easily, letting his own words get away from him before he worked out what he was going to say.

“And now the world is worth conquering,” said Clara, working her mind around what the three Doctors had said.  “So the Zygons are invading the future from the past.”

“Exactly.”

Turning to Queen Elizabeth, Ten added, “And do you know why I know that you’re a fake?  Because you’re such a _bad_ copy!  It’s not just the smell, or the unconvincing hair, or the atrocious teeth, or the eyes just a bit too close together, or the breath that could stun a horse.  It’s because my Elizabeth, the _real_ Elizabeth, would never be stupid enough to reveal her own plan.  Honestly, why would you do that?”

The Queen simply appeared humored at his antics.  “Because it’s not my plan,” she said.  “And I am the real Elizabeth.”

“Okay,” the Tenth Doctor said, eyes frantically flipping about the group, pausing where Rose was standing for the slightest of seconds, “So, backtracking a moment just to lend context to my earlier remarks--”

“My twin is dead in the forest,” Elizabeth interrupted.  “I am accustomed to taking precautions.”  Without warning, she whipped up her skirts to produce a sharp dagger, her motions alarming enough to even make Rose jumpy.  “These Zygon creatures never even considered that it was me who survived rather than their own commander.  The arrogance that typifies their kind.”

“Zygons?” asked Clara.

“Men,” Elizabeth corrected, and all three women had a good laugh.

“And you actually killed one of them?” Clara asked carefully, more than a little bit afraid of Elizabeth but not wanting to show it.

Elizabeth grinned.  “I may have the body of a weak and feeble woman, but at the time, so did the Zygon.  The future of my kingdom is in peril.  Doctor, can I rely on your service?”

“Well,” said the Tenth Doctor, tugging on his earlobe, “I’m going to need my TARDIS.”  Rose’s heart jumped at that word, almost hearing a long-absent song in her mind.  It was glorious and warm and gone entirely too soon.

Elizabeth waved him off.  “It has been procured already.”

“Ah.”

“But first, my love, you have a promise to keep,” she said, smiling even more.  Rose thought she was going to be sick.

* * *

 

Scowling as she sat cross-legged in the courtyard grass, Rose tried not to be too jealous of Queen Elizabeth as the clergyman said, “I now pronounce you man and wife.”  Clara cheered, and he went on to say, “You may now kiss the bride.”

If it was any consolation for Rose, the Doctor did not look entirely pleased as Elizabeth took charge, grabbing his lapels and pressing her lips to his forcefully, much more enthusiastically than was proper in public.  It seemed to go on forever, with the other men watching uncomfortably.

“Is there a lot of this in the future?” asked the War Doctor to his oldest counterpart while the snogging continued.

Flushing, he answered, “It does start to happen, yeah.”  Rose snorted.  That was an understatement: herself, Cassandra, Reinette, Martha, Donna, Astrid, Joan, and God knows who else after the Metacrisis came to Pete’s World with her.

Elizabeth separated herself from the Doctor, who appeared to start chasing after her lips with his own for a second before realizing himself and wiping his mouth on his sleeve.  Smiling at him, she said, “Godspeed, my love.”

“I will be right back,” he said before turning and bounding into the TARDIS and starting up the dematerialization sequence.

The others followed him, and Rose was seriously tempted to just give in and let herself fade away until she was needed again.  But if she never saw any incarnation of the Doctor again, she would always regret missing these moments, no matter how stupidly male he was acting.

“Right then,” said the bow tie clad Doctor, “back to the future.”

She stayed out of the conversations, listening carefully and following as they walked around, but kept herself detached.  She wasn’t even really herself--not that she even know who she was anymore.  Rose Tyler was long gone, as was Lady Arkytior of Gallifrey.  The Bad Wolf was possibly the best explanation, but she couldn’t see barely anything, much less everything in the universe.  The Moment possessed her, became her, until there was nothing left of her.

They were on Gallifrey once more, but this time in the painting.  “Gallifrey Falls” was based on the image of the last day of the Time War, and the screams all around them echoed in Rose’s head until she couldn’t bear it anymore.  She clutched her ears and cried out, squeezing her eyes shut.  Somewhere in the back of her mind, she got the feeling that someone was watching her (and not the Warrior), but she didn’t notice and didn’t care.

This was hell.

But then it was no more, and they were back on Earth in the Tower of London’s Black Archive.  By the time Rose found her bearings, the older Doctors were speaking with the humans and Zygon copies, and the War Doctor was speaking softly with Clara.  Rose stepped closer, waiting patiently in the shadows.

“He regrets it,” she heard Clara say.  “I see it in his eyes every day.  He’d do anything to change it.”  Rose couldn’t disagree.  She’d met her first Doctor straight out of the Time War (funny to think that in only a few hours time, he’d be meeting her for the first time ever in her timeline), and even after his regeneration she could see his regret, and it broke her heart every single day.

“Including saving all these people,” said the War Doctor.  “How many worlds has his regret saved, do you think?  Look over there.”  He pointed over to the rest of the room where the interplanetary negotiations were being held.  “Humans and Zygons working together in peace.  How did you know?”

“Your eyes,” she answered.  “You’re so much younger.”

“Then,” he said, “all things considered, it’s time I grew up.  I’ve seen all I needed.  The moment has come.”  Yes, she had.  Rose stepped forward, nodding slightly.  “I’m ready.”

“I know you are,” she said, half-proud and half-sad at the choice he had to make, the choice he would make, the choice he would always make.

“Who’s there?” asked Clara, eyes wandering all over the spot where Rose was standing until they landed directly on Rose’s own eyes.  “Who were you talking to?”

Having finally been noticed, Rose nodded at the War Doctor, and they vanished.


	11. The Day of the Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> England was amazing. Thanks for your patience. As of right now, there will only be one chapter after this, as I've reached a good stopping place that allows me a universe of free reign after a break. That being said, I'm trying to decide what to write next. The big options are 1. AU based on Broadchurch, 2. AU based on Divergent, and 3. Human!AU where the Doctor is a teacher with a crush on shop girl, Rose.
> 
> If you're interested in me pursuing any of these (or something else, I guess), feel free to contact me through here or on my tumblr (hopesvoice).
> 
> Thanks for the support, and enjoy!

_Chapter X - The Day of the Doctor_

Swinging her legs from her perch on top of a large crate, Rose watched the War Doctor blink several times as he realized what exactly was standing in front of him.  “You wanted a big red button,” she explained, smirking at the red crystal atop a long stalk extending from the box she had been contained in for the duration of the Time War.  “One big bang,” she went on to say, “no more Time Lords.  No more Daleks.  Are you sure?”

“I was sure when I came in here,” the War Doctor said, refusing to look at her.  She knew him better than anyone else in this universe; there was an impossible choice before him and he was weighing the consequences, reevaluating what he knew to be true.  “There is no other way.”

_If only_.  “You’ve seen the men you will become,” she said.

“Those men.  Extraordinary.”  His tone was not malevolent, but respectful.  He was in awe of them, despite how he may have acted or what he might have said.

“They were you,” she said, feeling conflicted on what she wanted him to choose.  The weapon within her was begging to be ignored, but Rose knew that the universe would go to hell if he didn’t do this.  This moment sat on the line of being a fixed point in time, just enough on the edge of both sides that it could go either way.  But Rose knew that her Doctor wouldn’t be _her Doctor_ if he hadn’t been so broken, if he hadn’t chosen the universe over himself.  And as a woman who had lived on Gallifrey for centuries, she was entirely torn.

He shook his head.  “No.  They were the Doctor.”

Rose wouldn’t let him tear himself down from the magnificent lives he had led because he pitied the choices he had made, would have to make.  “You’re the Doctor, too.”

Again, the War Doctor shook his head in disagreement.  “No.  Great men are forged in fire.  It is the privilege of lesser men to light the flame, whatever the cost.”  His calloused hand hovered over the gleaming button, the fear emanating from him stronger than any emotion she had ever sensed from another person.  Like an echo in her mind, she thought of children laughing and tried to keep herself from crying out because she was Rose and the Moment and the Bad Wolf and _human_ and not--she couldn’t let him do this, but she had to make him, and this was all so bloody confusing!

Her exterior remained calm, and unsure of which part of her was speaking, she said, “You know that sound the TARDIS makes?  That wheezing, groaning.  That sound brings hope wherever it goes.”  A potential timeline that was growing firmer and brighter brought a smile to her face.

“Yes,” he said, turning to look at her sadly.  “Yes, I like to think it does.”

“To anyone who hears it, Doctor.  Anyone, however lost.”  And it was Rose who spoke, for she could not keep the smile off her face as that wonderful sound began to accompany that beautiful blue box fading into existence on a planet it had not seen in at least a century.  “Even you.”

Not just one TARDIS appeared, but two: one for each of the Doctors they had just been with.  Thankfully, the barn was rather large and easily accommodated two time and space machines.  The TARDIS door with the St. John’s Ambulance logo on it swung open, and out bounded Clara, tugging the bow tie clad Doctor out with her.  “I told you,” she said, yanking him out the door.  “He hasn’t done it yet.”

The Warrior shook his head, his frown deepening as the Tenth Doctor stepped out of his TARDIS, which would never fail to make Rose’s heart lighten.  “Go away now, all of you,” the War Doctor said adamantly.  “This is for me.”

Unlike his older self, the Tenth Doctor looked around warily, his hands deep in his pockets.  Just for a second, his eyes settled on the crate where Rose was still sitting, but then moved on like nothing had happened.  “These events should be time-locked,” he said anxiously.  “We shouldn’t even be here.”

The Eleventh Doctor’s eyebrows crinkled in thought.  “So something let us through.”

“You clever boys,” Rose breathed out, praying they might piece everything together.  Just as she spoke, all three Doctors flicked their eyes to her, but only the War Doctor seemed to really see her.

The War Doctor quickly diverted their attention, using his body as a shield between the three interlopers and the Moment’s physical box.  “Go back,” he pressed, “go back to your lives.  Go and be the Doctor that I could never be.  Make it worthwhile.”  His words weren’t just a command, but a plea.  He would grieve and regenerate and meet her in a few hours, but they were past the initial moment of injury.

Shaking his head sadly, the Tenth Doctor looked over the War Doctor’s hardened form.  “All those years, burying you in my memory.”

“Pretending you didn’t exist,” added the Eleventh Doctor.  “Keeping you a secret, even from myself.”

“Pretending you weren’t the Doctor, when you were the Doctor more than anyone else.”

“You were the Doctor on the day it wasn’t possible to get it right.”

“But this time,” started the Tenth Doctor, taking a step toward the War Doctor, where his hand was again frozen in the air above the button.  The Eleventh Doctor followed his younger self’s footsteps, the air crackling with the power to change.

He put his hand above the other two hands, saying, “You don’t have to do it alone.”

Rose’s heart pounded, feeling like she was being ripped into pieces.  The different pieces of her being were arguing over the right thing to do, warring over how she should be feeling.  Above all, Rose was silently begging for them to make the right choice.

A sad smile spread on the weathered face of the youngest Doctor in the room, as he said, “Thank you.”

Looking between the bodies of his past and future selves, the Tenth Doctor said, “What we do today is not out of fear or hatred.  It is done because there is no other way.”

Eleven nodded and said, “And it is done in the name of the many lives we are failing to save.”  But just as the three men were about press down on the button, unleashing Rose’s full combined powers on the planet surrounding them, the oldest Doctor of the three looked to his companion and saw her shaking her head repeatedly, clasping her fists together with tears in her eyes.  “What?  What is it?  What?”

“Nothing,” Clara sniffed, and something told Rose that it was not fear that upset her, although the Doctor had basically forgotten about her wellbeing by bringing her to the destruction of the planet that would kill all of them.

“No, it’s something,” he said, pulling away from the other men to his friend.  “Tell me.”

After a tense minute, Clara said, “You told me you wiped out your own people.  It’s just...I never pictured you doing it, that’s all.”

Though she spoke only to the War Doctor, her words were meant for them all so that it was almost possible for them to hear Rose say, “Take a closer look.”  And everything went dark.

Clara immediately panicked, sensing that another presence was in control.  “What’s happening?” she squeaked, trying to keep her voice firm and together.

“Nothing,” said the War Doctor as the Eleventh put a comforting hand on Clara’s shoulder.  “It’s a projection.”

Rose could almost feel the tension between the group as the last day of the Time War came into being around them.  They were perfectly safe, not really present, but it was still an overwhelming experience, even for Rose.  “It’s a reality around you,” she corrected.

Clara turned around slowly, looking at the people screaming and Daleks killing.  “These are the people you’re going to burn?” she asked, her voice shaking.  It was apparent that she did not approve, and Rose couldn’t blame her.  Destroying two entire civilizations (even if one kept coming back) was monstrous.

“There isn’t anything we can do,” said the Tenth Doctor, his own posture indicating that he wanted to leave.  The Ninth Doctor had been the disturbed veteran, passing along his guilt to the Tenth Doctor, who in turn had allowed the Eleventh Doctor to move on.  That didn’t stop any of them from being just as broken as the man before him.

The Eleventh Doctor tightened his jaw.  “He’s right.  There isn’t another way.  There never was.  Either I destroy my own people or let the universe burn.”

_Burning gold and bright, the flames of power and Time ran through her veins, slowly planting the seeds of change in her body to be watered by her own blood.  The gift of another chance, of a woman who could shoulder the burden with him, who could fulfill her promise of forever.  Out of the entire universe, no one could have saved the Doctor better than Rose Tyler and the Bad Wolf._

Clara, not wanting to take no for an answer, shook her head, her brown eyes furiously blinking back tears.  “Look at you.  The three of you.  The warrior--” _(the Doctor on the day it was impossible to get it right)_ “--the hero--” _(the Time Lord Victorious)_ “--and you.”

“And what am I?” asked Eleven, focusing only on Clara like it was just the two of them in the TARDIS after a long day of universe-saving.

Sadly, she countered, “Have you really forgotten?”

“Yes,” he said quickly.  “Maybe, yes.”

“We’ve got enough warriors,” she said, and Rose knew it was time to intervene.  If there was to be a single change to the timeline, it had to be now before things grew too complicated.  Rose stepped forward and placed her fingertips against Clara’s back, not enough to raise awareness, but enough to just give Clara the support she didn’t know she needed.  “Any old idiot can be a hero.”

“Then what do I do?”

She smiled.  “What you’ve always done.  Be a doctor.  You told me the name you chose was a promise.  What was the promise?”

Everything around them froze with a snap of Rose’s fingers.  The War Doctor did not look at her, although he seemed to know that she was in control of the entire scene--they were still in the barn, with an image of reality surrounding them.  The Tenth Doctor was the first to answer Clara’s question.  “Never cruel nor cowardly.”

“Never give up, never give in,” continued the War Doctor.

And just then, the images of war disappeared in the blink of an eye, and the image of the barn returned to the forefront.  Rose returned to her perch on the wooden crate, watching the scene with a small smile.  Maybe they would get a happy ending this time.

The Tenth Doctor did not seem so convinced.  “You’re not actually suggesting we change our own personal history?”  Rose took a peek along his individual timeline, and knew of the Time Lord Victorious, knew what happened when fixed points were rewritten.  But this was not fixed, not necessarily.  It teetered on that edge, ready to fall in either direction.

“We change history all the time,” said the Eleventh Doctor, clapping his hands together.  “I’m suggesting far worse.”

“What, exactly?” asked the War Doctor.

Eleven smiled and put his arms around Clara and the Tenth Doctor.  Both gave him a questioning look, so he frowned and quickly retracted his arms, flailing about a bit while he figured out what to do with his arms.  Settling with them clasped in front of him, he said, “Gentlemen, I have had four hundred years to think about this.  I’ve changed my mind.”  Sonic screwdriver in hand, the Doctor aimed at the box containing the Moment and made the stalk and crystal sink back into the box.  

But he didn’t do just that.  Somehow and probably accidentally, the sonic screwdriver disabled the Moment entirely, freeing up Rose’s own consciousness.  She felt herself grow lighter and heavier at the same time.  Not quite in a physical form to be seen by all yet, Rose sat silently, afraid to change things from how they were already changing.  The Moment would need time to restart itself, and Rose didn’t want to be reunited with her Doctor only to be torn away at the last minute.

No one noticed if she became visible to them.  The Warrior wasn’t entirely convinced of their plan.  “There’s still a billion _billion_ Daleks up there attacking.”

“Yeah,” said the Eleventh Doctor, “there is.  There is.”

A smile hinting at the corners of his mouth, the Tenth Doctor bounced up and down.  “But there’s something those billion billion Daleks don’t know.”

“Because if they did,” continued Eleven, “they’d probably send for reinforcements.”

“What?” asked Clara, interjecting herself into the conversation.  “What don’t they know?”

The Eleventh Doctor smiled broadly, exclaiming, “This time, there’s three of us!”

It took a moment to sink in, but then the War Doctor understood.  He barked out a gravelly laugh and grinned, the smile finally reaching his eyes because his choice had been made and a plan developed--he would not have to kill his planet.  “Oh!  Oh, yes, that is good.  That is brilliant!”

Ten was still a bit slow on the uptake, and whacked himself on the forehead when it clicked, shouting, “Oh, oh, oh!  I’m getting that too!  That _is_ brilliant!”

Eleven looked like he was about to cry of happiness, picking Clara up and swinging her around in a hug.  “I’ve been thinking about it for centuries!” he laughed, as loud as ever.

“She didn’t just show me any old future!” mused the War Doctor.  “She showed me exactly the future I needed to see!”

Rose grinned.  “Now you’re gettin’ it.”

Confusion hit the other two Doctors.  “Eh?” asked Eleven, “Who did?”

The Warrior spun around on the spot to face her, reaching his arms out to her.  “Oh, Bad Wolf girl, I could kiss you!”

The Tenth Doctor took a step in front of where the Warrior was looking, just as Rose said, “Yeah, _that’s_ gonna happen.”  And funnily enough, it wouldn’t.  Not really, not properly until the Metacrisis and even then, it wasn’t with the Time Lord him she had fallen in love with.

“Sorry,” said the Tenth Doctor, rather quickly so the conversation would not continue on.  “Did you just say Bad Wolf?”

Eleven’s head whipped around the barn, but Clara was the first to see her.  With a gasp, Clara tugged on the Eleventh Doctor’s sleeve and pointed straight at Rose.  She wiggled her fingers in a little wave, and Eleven’s eyes widened as he saw one of the many people he had never thought he would see again.

And then the Tenth Doctor looked over his shoulder, the rest of his body slowly turning to follow.  His eyes met hers, and Rose let herself smile.  He seemed frozen solid at first, but then took a hesitant step forward, his hand rising of its own accord.  “Rose,” he began to say, but stopped himself, clearly afraid that this was some sort of dream.  Rose couldn’t blame him.  Getting both Gallifrey and Rose Tyler back in one day?  That was simply not possible.  And yet it was.

Sliding off the crate as carefully as possible so she wouldn’t rip anymore holes in her torn stockings, Rose stood in front of him, her heart racing.  He moved to take her hand, but Rose pulled it back before he could touch her.  “I am sorry, Doctor,” she said, “but I have things I must do.”

Rose blinked, and she was gone.

The Tenth Doctor wavered in place, stunned.  “What the hell just happened?” he finally managed to grunt out.

“Rose Tyler on Gallifrey,” said the Eleventh Doctor.  “How did I not remember that?”

“She’s not Rose Tyler,” the War Doctor said.

“You haven’t met her yet,” interrupted Ten.  “You don’t know her.”

The Warrior shook his head.  “She said herself that she wasn’t Rose Tyler, but Bad Wolf in that form.  That’s the consciousness of the Moment, the physical interface of a weapon so powerful it developed a conscience.  She’s the one who brought me to you in the first place.”

“So she was there the whole time?” asked Eleven.  At the War Doctor’s nod, he continued, “No wonder I felt like we weren’t alone.  And if she was there the entire time...”  He paled.  “We’re going to have to explain Elizabeth.”

“And River,” said Ten.

Clara rolled her eyes.  She knew exactly who Rose Tyler was to the Doctor, having been inside his time stream, but that was not the issue right at hand.  Gallifrey was still being attacked by Daleks and would be destroyed if they didn’t act quickly.  “So,” she said, “what are we doing?  What’s the plan?”

With a smile growing on the face of all four of them, they prepared to save Gallifrey.

* * *

 

Rose hurried through the halls of the Citadel.  She had to reach the war rooms in time to convince the High Council that everything would be fine.  Ideally, the Doctors would even see her and be able to pick her up and take her off planet before Gallifrey was frozen.  She had waited lifetimes for this; there was no way she was going to sit back and take this lying down.

But as her feet pounded against the marble floors, a light voice cried out, “Lady Arkytior!”  Rose groaned and slowed down enough to swing around a pillar and ran back towards the direction from which she had come.  “Lady Arkytior!”

Before her stood a young woman with dark brown hair and clear blue eyes.  She didn’t look much older than Rose’s physical appearance, but considering the circumstances, that hardly meant anything.  Her hair was plaited down her back, her black and white clothing militaristic and not particularly ladylike with its trousers and high collared jacket.  But despite Rose not knowing the woman’s physical appearance, the ring on the woman’s left thumb gave her identity away.

A smile grew on Rose’s face.  “Lady Romana,” she said, thankful for a friendly face who could help her in her task of stalling the High Council.  “I’ve just seen the Doctors, and they’re going to freeze Gallifrey by use of a stasis cube.  It’s all backwards, but this is the second time it’s happened and the only way to keep Gallifrey from being destroyed is to freeze it and they need time.  We have to stop the Lord President.”

Romana’s expression grew dark.  “Rassilon will not be easily persuaded.”

“I know,” Rose nodded.  “But they won’t listen to me.”

“How are you even here?  And more than one Doctor in one place?”

“Yes,” Rose said impatiently, starting to briskly walk back toward her destination.  “Three of them, and one of his traveling companions.  And England’s Queen Elizabeth I, but I’d rather not get into that right now.  It’s a bit of a long story and I’m not sure I understand it all.  The Moment used my form as its interface because of my experience with the Doctor.  Somehow, one of the Doctors disabled the weapon while trying to simply close the box.  I don’t know why or how, but I’ve been given my real body back, but was still linked to the Moment to bring myself here, but now I’m not the weapon, at least I don’t think so, and--”

She stopped as they reached the thick double doors leading into the War Room.  The doors were barred and deadlock sealed; there was no getting in.  And to further worsen things, two different symbols were posted on the doors.  Rose could not read the circular Gallifreyan, even after so many years on the planet.  Romana’s eyebrows furrowed as she considered the runes.

“Romana,” said Rose, “what does it say?”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” she replied.  “Bad Wolf.”

With a dejected sigh, Rose closed her eyes.  Of course those words would be the reason she could not be reunited with the Doctor.  For if she was unable to get off-world before the Doctors froze the planet, she would be stuck on Gallifrey until the Doctor was able to find the planet and restore it, if such a thing was possible.  The plan still had no guarantee to work.

“Arkytior,” said Romana, “what does that mean?”

“It’s a message.  To lead myself here.  You know the words, you know who I am.  I am the Bad Wolf, howling in the Oncoming Storm.  And if those words are on the outside of those doors,” she said, voice beginning to shake, “then I am not meant to leave Gallifrey.”

Romana took her arm and closed her eyes.  “The Doctor is here--well, three of them?  No, all of them.  Every single Doctor has his TARDIS in orbit around Gallifrey.”

Rose swallowed.  “So there’s nothing we can do.”  When Romana shook her head, Rose took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.  “It’s all up to the Doctor now.  Why does that make me nervous?”  Romana simply laughed.

* * *

 

The old curator hobbled away, leaving the Doctor with his arms crossed in front of his chest and a huge smile on his face.  Clara was waiting in the TARDIS, but the Doctor wasn’t quite ready to face her yet.  She would have questions that he was still afraid to ask himself, much less answer.  He could find Gallifrey and unfreeze it--Gallifrey falls no more.  On that planet, presumably, was a woman who looked remarkably like Rose Tyler, a face which he would never forget.  She was a mystery that he needed to solve.  And now he had the freedom to do so.

When the Doctor walked into the TARDIS, Clara was leaning against the console, waiting for him to reenter.  “There’s this man at my work, his name’s Tom.  I think you would like him, Doctor.”

“Eh?”

Clara nodded, smiling.  “Yeah, I think you would.  And if that Bad Wolf girl starts traveling with us, you’ll be sorely outnumbered.  Maybe having another man onboard would be good.  Double dating across the universe, having cocktails on the moon.”

The Doctor hesitated in his dematerialization maneuvers, his hand resting on a big purple button.  “We never did get around to that, did we?”

She screwed up her face.  “We were a bit busy.”

“Yeah,” the Doctor agreed, going back to his motions but with less fervor than usual.

Clara noticed the change in his attitude, and, once they were safely in the Vortex, put a hand on his shoulder and asked, “Are you okay?  And don’t say that you’re always okay, because I know you aren’t.  You just have to look at me with those big, sad eyes and I know that something’s wrong.  Super nanny, me.  Used to having to guess at these things.  But I know you, Doctor, and you’re sad.  You should be happy; we saved Gallifrey!”

“Yes,” he said, his smile reaching out toward his eyes.  “Yes, we did.  But that still doesn’t change the fact that it was gone.  For hundreds of years, I lived with the guilt of destroying my own planet, my own people.  Now Gallifrey is safe, but I still feel that guilt in my hearts.  Because it happened, we just changed the past and the future.  That guilt made me the man that I am today, and I won’t let that change me.  And I suppose, if you’re up for it, we could find it, find out if it worked.”

Taking one of his hands in her own, Clara swung their arms and laughed.  “I’m game if you are.  But first I think I want to go home for a bit.  You should come for lunch.  I told the Maitlands I would be over sometime, and I know Angie and Artie miss you.  They’d love for you to come.”

“Perhaps I shall, Clara Oswald,” he said.  Just as she was looking at him, his expression brightened like a lightbulb had gone off above his head.  Clara could practically imagine the _ding_ as the idea hit, and giggled.  “Oh!  Thanksgiving is next week!”

“Doctor, I’m not American,” she said, immediately growing a bit confused.  Sure, he was an alien, but he had to know that the British didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving.

He rolled his eyes.  “Of course you aren’t, Clara.  But that doesn’t matter!  In the thirty-ninth century, every human colony in this half of the Milky Way celebrates Thanksgiving, although I think it is mostly just as an excuse to eat exorbitant amounts of food.  Honestly, you humans eat like you have four stomachs like bovine.  Oh, I like that word bovine, even if it doesn’t sound like cow--”

Clara’s raised eyebrows were enough to shut him up.  “Thanksgiving?”

“The first Thanksgiving!” he exclaimed, spinning in a circle with his arms stretched out wide.  “The day that the Pilgrims and the Indians came together to give thanks!  Though you shouldn’t call them Indians--not politically correct.  Native Americans is a good term, but the Wampanoag is the real name of the tribe.  So what do you think, Clara?  Let’s go eat some turkey with Squanto!”

And before she could even think about arguing, they were at Plymouth Rock and running out the doors.


	12. Gallifrey Stands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the support! Every comment and kudos means so much to me! I regret to say that this is the final chapter for this work, but I love the little universe I've created so much that I might come back one day and extend on it (no guarantees though).
> 
> I do hope that everyone enjoys this last chapter, but please try to keep an open mind and not hate me. :)

_Chapter XI - Gallifrey Stands_

_Once, there was a planet, much like any other and unimportant.  This planet sent the universe a message.  A bell tolling among the stars, ringing out to all the dark corners of creation.  And everybody came to see.  Although no one understood the message, everyone who heard it found themselves afraid.  Except one man.  The man who stayed for Christmas._

* * *

 

Clara Oswald sprinted out of the TARDIS, expecting to be in the town of Christmas.  It hit her like a ton of bricks that she had been tricked.  The Doctor had tricked her into returning home.  God, how could she have been so _stupid_?  “No,” she breathed, the wind blowing her hair into her face.  “Don’t you dare.”  Dashing back to the TARDIS as it began to fade in and out of sight, she thrust her key into the lock, just for the door to swing open, pulling her inside.

Surprised and out of breath, Clara looked around for whoever had been in the TARDIS to save her, but there was no one in the console room.  None of those awful zombies and no past companions of the Doctor stuck in some time loop.  Well, until she turned back around to face the console.

Before Clara Oswald stood Clara Oswald.

With a huff, she put her hands on her hips and said, “Oh, not this again!”

“I am the voice interface of the TARDIS,” said the blank-faced Clara.  “This face has been chosen because--”

“--yeah, yeah,” Clara interrupted, rolling her eyes, “because I fancy myself or something.  Whatever the hell that means.  Look, aren’t you on his side?  Why would you bring me back?  And can you change forms because I’ve lost weight since you got that image of me!”

The image flickered briefly, settling on the image of a young girl with red hair.  “This is the personal favorite of the current Doctor,” the TARDIS said, now with a Scottish accent.

Clara studied the little girl’s form.  “I died so many times trying to save the Doctor,” Clara said, “but I don’t know you.  Not really.  You’re Amelia Pond.”

“I am not Amelia Pond,” spoke the interface, its voice monotone and dry.  “I am the TARDIS voice interface.  If you would prefer a form held in different regard to the Doctor, I would be glad to appease you.”

Her jaw clenched tight, Clara frowned.  “Now you’re just being rude.”  The image flickered and was replaced with a blonde woman just a little taller than Clara.  She wore dark pants and a blue leather jacket.  “Wait a minute,” Clara said, “I know her.  That’s the Bad Wolf girl!”

“Yes,” the mechanical voice said, now lighter and with a lilt of London.  “This is the image of Rose Tyler.”

“Where is she?  She was supposed to be dead, on Gallifrey--”

“Rose Tyler was not on Gallifrey.  Her form was manipulated by the Moment, a weapon of mass destruction developed by the Time Lords.  Rose Tyler died at the Battle of Canary Wharf.  She returned for a brief period of time in 2008 to help the Doctor save the planet Earth from the Daleks.”

“But if she was dead, how could she have returned?”

“She was not dead.”

“But you just said--”

“She was not dead.”

Clara groaned and tugged at her hair, drumming her fingertips against her forehead.  “Why do you have to be so bloody enigmatic?  You’re worse than the Doctor.  So where is she now?”

The image froze for a few seconds, making Clara panic and nearly kick the console in frustration, but was soon back up and running.  “Whereabouts unknown.”

With a sigh, Clara walked over to the railing and considered flinging herself over just to be rid of the bloody interface.  Whenever she found the Doctor, she would make him make his ship apologize for acting like a toddler.  It wasn’t her fault the bloody thing hated her.  “Why did you pull me in here anyway?  You hate me.  Why wouldn’t you just let me freeze to death on the outside of the TARDIS?”

No emotion passed over the face before her as the monotone voice said, “Only one human has ever faced the Time Vortex directly and survived, but he was a fixed point in time, unable to die.  Remaining on the exterior of the TARDIS would simply kill you and leave a mess for the Doctor to clean up.”

“Wow,” huffed Clara, “thanks for the concern.”  Before Clara could speak again, the entire ship shuddered as they landed.  Gripping the console rim to keep from slipping to the floor, Clara groaned at the force of the landing.  When she looked up, the interface was gone.

Smiling to herself, Clara spun around and raced for the door.

* * *

_As the days passed, and the years, the Doctor stayed true to his word.  On the fields of Trenzalore, he stood as protector of both his own people and his new home.  Over the years, his foes would find new, stranger ways to enter the town called Christmas.  With every victory, the town celebrated.  In time, the Doctor seemed to forget he’d lived any other life.  And the people came to love the man who stayed for Christmas._

* * *

Outside the blue box, Clara was greeted with a surprised and surprisingly angry Doctor.  “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice wavering.  She looked him over, shocked to see that he looked like an old man now.  His posture had deteriorated, wrinkles lined his face, and his hair was greying.  But that was not what weighed heavily on Clara’s mind.

“You tricked me,” she said, eyes filled with tears.

He shook his head as much as his old body would allow.  “I saved you.”

Appalled and betrayed, Clara shouted, “You didn’t even say goodbye!”

He yelled right back at her, “I’m furious with you!”

“Well, I am not even talking to you!”

A few tense seconds passed, but even the best of friends could not remain angry with each other for long.  Both burst into laughter and hugged each other tightly, Clara being more careful with the Doctor’s frail body than she would ever admit.  He looked like he could break any second.

* * *

_And so, to the fields of Trenzalore came all the Time Lord’s enemies.  For this was the winter of the Doctor.  In time, when all other races had retreated or burned, only the Church of the Mainframe remained in the path of the Daleks.  And so those ancient enemies, the Doctor and the Silence, stood back to back on the fields of Trenzalore._

* * *

 

Angry tears blurred Clara’s vision as she stared at the block of flats she’d been living in.  This was supposed to be her first Christmas in her own flat having gotten her own job at Coal Hill Secondary School and moved out of the Maitland’s house in Chiswick.

How could he have done that again?  He just disappeared from the console room, letting her believe he’d already gone outside, then left before she could even think about running back onboard the TARDIS.

The turkey suddenly felt like it weighed a hundred pounds.  It took everything Clara had to keep from dropping the turkey on the ground.  So stunned at the Doctor’s betrayal, Clara’s legs began to move of their own accord.  Time moved along without her consent, stringing her along for the ride until Clara was sitting at the dinner table with the family she didn’t want to see.

“Other fish in the sea, that’s all I’m saying,” pressed Linda, Clara’s dad’s new girlfriend.  She was a total bitch--and Clara _never_ used that word.

Fortunately, Clara’s dad decided now would be a good time to stick up for her.  “Linda, I don’t think Clara wants to talk about it.”  Why would anyone want to talk about their fake boyfriend who left them on Christmas Day?  Hell, if it had been any other day of the year she wouldn’t want to talk about it, but this was just so much worse.

She wouldn’t listen to him.  “I’ve got a suggestion, that’s all.  I’ve got a list of suggestions.”

“Linda,” he warned, but was ignored.

“You could make a boy band out of my list,” she continued to say.

Clara mumbled, “I hate boy bands.”  Even though secretly, Clara was a Directioner.  Their music was just so catchy.

Linda kept nattering on, “Of course you don’t, not at your age.”  Did Linda think she was a child?

“These crackers are rubbish,” said Clara’s gran, trying to change the subject off of Clara’s love life which was even more nonexistent than any of them knew.

“I bought these crackers,” said Linda.

“I know.”

“They’re classy.”

“They don’t have jokes.”

“Exactly.”

“They’ve got poems,” complained Gran, letting Linda know that she was not welcome at this table if she was going to ruin all of their traditions and pick on the family members who had been going through a rough time.

Linda rolled her eyes.  “They’re more dramatic crackers.”

“I like the jokes.”

“Tell us a joke, Gran,” Clara said before Linda could argue anymore about how sophisticated she was, how disapproving she was of Clara’s current living location.  “You know loads of jokes.”  Really, she could do with a laugh right about now.  
And of course Linda had to make the entire situation revolve around her.  “I think we’re probably talking about my list now.”

“Probably not,” Clara snapped.

“Tell us how you met Dad,” Clara’s dad suggested, finally agreeing with his real family.  “The thing about the pigeon.”

Gran smiled, the ring on her finger glittering in the Christmas sun as she admired it.  “I saw him on a pier on a rainy day.”

“No, no, not that one,” said Dad.  “The one about the pigeon.”

She ignored him, really only speaking to Clara now.  Sometimes Clara wondered if her grandmother was psychic or an alien because she just always seemed to know what Clara needed to hear.  “I’d seen him before, lots of times, but he just looked so beautiful standing there.”

“The pigeon in the restaurant?  You remember?”

“I wanted everything to stop.  I wanted nothing to change ever again.”  At her words, Clara started to cry, not fully understanding why.  “If he could just keep standing there, so beautiful.  A long time ago.  Don’t hug me so tight, dear.  You’ll break something.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” snarked Linda.  “Crying at Christmas.”

Clara didn’t have the energy to fight her off anymore.  “Sorry,” she said, raising a hand to wipe the tears from under her eyes.

“I hope you made a wish,” Gran said softly, but Clara didn’t really know what she meant.  She was going to ask, but didn’t have a chance, as there was a knock on the door just then.  Nothing made sense anymore.

Clara rose to get it, brushing off the concerns from her family about wasting Christmas on a stranger.  Really, why had she invited them over at all?  Well, particularly Linda.  Her dad was such a pushover whenever Linda was involved, and it drove Clara mad.

Twisting the knob in her hand, Clara pulled open the door, half expecting the Doctor to be standing there.  She didn’t expect the TARDIS.  Well, not the TARDIS, per se, but the interface in the form of Rose Tyler/Bad Wolf Girl.

“What are you doing here?” asked Clara, stepping into the open air.  “Where’s the actual TARDIS?  Where’s the Doctor?  Is he dying?”

The interface held up a hand to stop Clara from speaking.  A tiny smile rose from the image’s lips, something that Clara hadn’t seen before.  Like she could read her mind, the interface said, “I’m not the interface of the TARDIS, Clara Oswald.  My name is Rose Tyler.  And I need your help to save the Doctor.”

Clara was silent, just staring at her.  “What can I do?”

Rose smiled and looked down briefly at her feet, then back up.  She was still wearing the ratty Gallifreyan robes she had worn when first uploaded into the Moment’s membrane.  “Come with me.”  Clara closed the door behind her and followed Rose as she walked down the open corridor.  “I used to live here, y’know.  Number 48.  Long time ago, that.  It seems so different now.”

“Yeah,” Clara said as they reached the stairs and started their descent.  “My neighbor Katelyn told me that the police found and arrested this major drug ring a few years ago.  Apparently the leader had been released from prison and brought extreme levels of crime to the Estate, so the Council came and cleaned it up.  Maybe you knew of him?  Jim something.”

“Jimmy Stone.”  Clara looked at Rose sharply.  The blonde’s jaw was clenched, her hands curling into fists.  But then the woman took a deep breath and physically relaxed, although the dangerous look did not leave her eyes.  “Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a _really_ long time.”

The look on her face made Clara desperately want to change the subject.  “Um, so it’s better now.”  They reached the bottom of the stairwell and walked out into the late afternoon sunlight.  “How are we going to save the Doctor?”

Rose turned her head to meet Clara’s eyes, a small smile hinting mischief.  “I’m not.  _You_ are.”

Clara’s lips pressed together in a tight line.  “He doesn’t want my help.  He’s sent me back twice now.  He would much rather grow old and spend his time with Tasha.”

“Who?”

“Tasha Lem,” Clara spat before quickly adjusting her tone.  “She’s the head of the Church or something like that.  He seemed to know her, but I don’t know where from.  Actually, she even reminded me of the Doctor’s wife.”  She looked hesitantly over at Rose, but when the blonde didn’t even seem surprised that the Doctor was married, she moved on.  “I would do _anything_ for him, and he just sent me back.”

Rose smile grew sad.  “Sending you home doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you.  It just means he cares for you and wants to keep you safe.”  More quietly she added, “Took me years to realize that.”

“He just shouldn’t be on his own,” Clara said, feeling her eyes start to prick even though they still felt swollen from her crying earlier.  “He has so many friends who would do anything for him, and he won’t let them help.  We could find so many people to help him but he never talks about anything or anyone.”

“That’s the Doctor,” Rose said, putting a gentle hand on Clara’s shoulder.  Maybe it was her natural maternal instincts coming out, or maybe Rose just knew how Clara felt.  Maybe both, but Rose couldn’t help but wish the Doctor wouldn’t send away the ones who loved him.  She wasn’t naive enough anymore to believe that she was the only one who loved the Doctor, or the only one who he loved.  “Tell me, Clara, do you remember meeting me before?”

She was still for a few seconds before nodding.  “Only vaguely.  I’ve lived so many lives for so long.  I only meant to save the Doctor.  The Great Intelligence was killing him and so I sacrificed myself, splitting myself into a million pieces throughout his life.  I always died.  I remember--only a little, mind--but I remember telling him to steal that TARDIS.  And you were there, but not as Rose Tyler.  You were...”  She trailed off, thinking.

“Arkytior,” Rose said, looking back at the Powell Estate.  “It means ‘rose’.  The Doctor gave me that name over a thousand years ago, back before he was the Doctor.  ‘e was called Theta then.”

“You look good for a woman over a thousand years old.”

Rose laughed.  “Yeah, I s’pose I do, ta.  Anyway, she’s going to be here any minute now.  You need to go back to Trenzalore and save the Doctor again.  I think you’ll know what to do.  Don’t forget about me--just pull me through and I can take care of myself from there.  The Doctor won’t ask any questions; he won’t be thinking about me, so don’t worry.  Focus on him.  He needs you.”

“Wait,” Clara said, feeling as if time were slipping through her fingers at an alarming rate, “what do you mean pull you through?”

“You’ve got to bring me into this world, Clara,” Rose said, giving her an encouraging smile.  “Oh, and don’t forget the cracker.”  She reached into a pocket on her sleeveless jacket and pulled out a Christmas cracker, pushing it into Clara’s hand.  The wheezing of the TARDIS engines suddenly came from behind Clara.  She glanced over her shoulder to see the blue box fading in and out of sight, but when she looked back, Rose was gone.

The door was unlocked when Clara tried the latch, ready to give the Doctor a piece of her mind for sending her home again, but he wasn’t in the console room.  Instead, it was a woman: Tasha Lem.  “You can fly the TARDIS?”

* * *

 

_And now it’s time for one last bow, like all your other selves.  Eleven’s hour is over now, the clock is striking Twelve’s._

* * *

 

A young man ran into the room.  Clara had to admit that he was handsome for an alien--or was he human?  No matter, the Daleks had arrived on Trenzalore and were demanding the Doctor.  “They’re here.  The Daleks, we can’t stop them.  They want you.”  Well, obviously, thought Clara, since they could _hear_ the Daleks all over the planet.  Part of her immediately thought, _I am not a Dalek, I am human!_

“Oh, all right, Barnable,” the Doctor said.  “Are you Barnable?”

The young man shook his head.  “No, Doctor.”

The Doctor waved him off.  “It’s okay, Barnable, don’t worry.  I have got a plan.  Off you pop.”  Not-Barnable left, his exit accompanied by the sounds of explosions on the surface above.  To Clara, the Doctor continued, “I haven’t got a plan, but people love it when I say that.”

“Doctor,” said Clara, “what are you going to do?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he shrugged.  “Talk very fast, hope something good happens, take the credit.  That’s generally how it works.”

“Doctor--”

“Not this time, though.  This is it.”  His expression was somber, his tone decidedly complacent.  He was ready to die, and Clara could never let that happen.

“No!” she exclaimed, feeling tears come to her eyes again.  Why did this Christmas have to be so sad?  It should have been a happy holiday.

“Yes,” he countered.  “We saw the future, Clara.  This is how it ends.”

“Change it.”  The Doctor gave a bitter little laugh in response, so Clara continued to press him on the matter.  “Like Tasha said, change the future.”

“I could have done once,” he said sadly, “when there were Time Lords.  Not any more.”  Quietly, he turned to head for the door.  Clara moved to follow him, but he stopped her.  “No.  You’re going to stay here.  Promise me you will.”

“Why?”

“I’ll be keeping you safe,” he answered.  Clara thought back to what Rose had said about the Doctor sending people away from him for their protection.  She had followed his orders and stayed put before, on the Soviet submarine, but she wouldn’t let him coddle her anymore.  “One last victory.  All me that.  Give me that, my impossible girl.  Thank you.  And goodbye.”  He lifted his wrinkled thumbs to her face and brushed the tears off of her cheeks, tapping her on the nose once before backing away and turning to the stairs.  With his back to her, he said, “The trouble with Daleks is, they take so long to say anything.  Probably die of boredom before they shoot me.”

When he was gone, Clara remembered Rose’s instructions and ran to the crack in the wall, kneeling beside it and pressing her hands against the lines.  Feeling rather stupid to be talking to a wall, she said, “Listen to me, you lot.  Listen!  Help him.  Help him change the future.  Do it.  Do something.  Lady Arkytior, I need your help particularly.  You’ve been asking a question, and it’s time someone told you you’ve been getting it wrong.  His name--his name is _the Doctor_.  All the name he needs.  Everything you need to know about him.  And if you love him, and you should, help him.  Help him.”

She stood and backed away from the crack, not really sure what to expect now.  For a minute, the crack seemed to be growing wider, but then there was a tiny flash of light and the entire thing snapped shut like there had never been a crack on the wall in the first place.  Feeling defeated, Clara turned around.

Rose was standing right in front of her.  Clara gasped, and Rose smiled a bit. “I believe you called?”

Shaking her head in disbelief, Clara said, “You’re the one who told me to get you.”

Her smile grew.  “Must not’ve happened yet.  Well, for me.  Circular paradox, can be bloody confusing at times.  Anyway, the Doctor needs help.  Let’s go.”

Clara led the way out of the cellar, Rose hot on her heels.  They burst into the area outside the bell tower, looking up at the sky in terror.  Rose rested a hand on Clara’s shoulder briefly.  Clara turned to say something to Rose, but the blonde was gone.  That must have been what she was talking about before, about taking it from there.  The Doctor was arguing with the Daleks atop the tower.

She had to save the Doctor.

Clara sprinted to the stairs, taking them two at a time until she was at the top.  “Doctor!” she cried, running up and taking his hand in hers. 

“Clara,” he gasped, “I told you to stay put!”

“Well, it’s too late now,” she said firmly, squeezing his hand.  “So that regeneration energy, yeah?  Able to use it?”

“I should be able to,” the Doctor said with a nod.

“Good,” Clara said.  “I think you might need to.”  

And just then, she ducked down as the Dalek before them screamed, “EX-TER-MIN-ATE!” striking the Doctor in the chest.  He staggered back briefly, and Clara lunged for his hand.  If shot again, the Doctor wouldn’t have time to regenerate.  The Dalek appeared to be recharging its systems, and Clara knew what she had to do.  What she always had to do.

The sight of Rose on the ground below simply confirmed what she thought.

Time seemed to slow as Clara looked straight into the Doctor’s eyes and said, “Run, you clever boy, and remember me.”  The blood was ringing in her ears, blocking out the Doctor’s shouts and the Dalek’s screaming.  All she was aware of was her legs throwing herself in front of the Doctor just as the Dalek fired its weapon.

And knew no more.

* * *

 

The Doctor ran a hand through his short grey hair, staring down at the body at his feet.  He never meant for this to happen.  She was never again supposed to give her life for his.  His impossible girl.  There would be no coming back from death this time.

Soft footsteps approached from behind the Doctor and a hand slipped into his.  A hand he knew all too well, a hand he had never imagined he would feel again, a hand that always fit in his own.  A head rested against his shoulder, he saw blonde hair out of his peripheral vision.

Finally, a chance to touch that which he had not touched in centuries.  He squeezed her hand and spoke aloud for the first time.  This Doctor was not a man of many words, it seemed.  “She did it again,” he said, his voice with a Scottish accent--part of him thought of his Amelia Pond.  “She sacrificed herself for me.  And she won’t come back this time, because this Clara Oswald was _the_ Clara Oswald.”

“I’m sorry,” Rose murmured against his arm.

Anger flared up in his chest.  “This is why you don’t ignore what I tell you!  You stupid humans and your penchant for danger.  Half of my life is spent chasing after you lot and cleaning up after your bloody--”

Pain.  The sound registered after the flare of pain on his left cheek.  Rose-- _Rose Tyler_ \--stood in front of him, her jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.  She slapped him.  She _slapped_ him.

Rubbing his cheek, the only thing the Doctor could manage to get out was, “You’ve been taking lessons from your mother.”

A brief smile crossed Rose’s face, but then an overwhelming sadness overcame her.  Her shoulders sank, and she chewed on her lower lip--a nervous habit that he was surprised to suddenly remember.  “Mum...” she started to say, but broke off.  “My mum’s been dead for over a thousand years or so.  I start to forget.  Lost count a while ago.”

The Doctor nodded knowingly, thinking that he should feel some sort of guilt about it, but he really couldn’t care because _Clara was dead_.  “Bad Wolf,” he said.  She acknowledged his words, but said nothing.  “You were the Moment, and you were Arkytior, and you were Dame Rose of the Powell Estate.  Who are you now?”

She raised an eyebrow, amused.  At least regeneration was familiar territory.  “New new Rose.  How long have you known?”

“That you were Arkytior?  Only since the day I saved Gallifrey.  I suppose it worked, although now I’m not so sure.  Do you know?”  She shook her head.  “We could always go find it together.  The old team.”

Again, Rose shook her head.  She gave him a sad smile and said, “You need to figure things out on your own, Doctor.  And so do I.  Ever since I’ve been in this universe, I’ve been on Gallifrey.  Like you said, I’m not sure I know who I am.  And neither do you.  So take Clara back to her family and explain things properly.  Give them that much.  Then do like you do best: run.  Find a companion and show them the universe.  And when we’re both ready, we’ll find each other.  We always do.  But in case this you has a problem with directions, just tell me a year and a place and I’ll be waiting for you.”

He was silent for a few seconds, then smiled and said, “London, 1894.”  The Doctor blinked, and she was gone.


End file.
